


Sometimes Things Don't Get Better. They Only Get Worse.

by SilentPrincess17



Series: Sometimes It Takes Losing It All, To Gain Everything You Deserve [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Brainwashing, But some chapters will be Zelda's POV too, Competent Yiga Clan Part 2, F/M, Heavy Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Sorry, Identity Issues, Imprisonment, It's Zelink but it's crumbs honestly, Like if this was D&D he rolled a Nat 1, Link suffers through a lot of psychic damage, Link's POV mainly, This is the darker version of Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better, Uncertainty, Yiga Link, here we go again lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29316255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentPrincess17/pseuds/SilentPrincess17
Summary: This essentially is an AU of what happens after Chapter 7 of my other story: Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better. To properly understand the backstory it would probably be best to read that first.However here is the TL,DR option: After the events of the Blades of Yiga Memory, Link and Zelda have been imprisoned by the Yiga Clan. Following two days of torture, the Yiga try something new. Something experimental. Something that neither Link nor Zelda anticipated.Cue an identity crisis.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Zelink - Relationship
Series: Sometimes It Takes Losing It All, To Gain Everything You Deserve [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130516
Comments: 90
Kudos: 43





	1. Where it all began

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OracleHylia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OracleHylia/gifts).



> This is a gift for OracleHylia who made a comment which stuck with me, (I won't write it here because spoilers but you can probably find it haha) and I couldn't stop thinking about it so here is this angst rollercoaster which developed as a result. What follows is what I did to try to retcon that comment into a story and live up to it. 
> 
> Ending of chapter 7 as a reminder: Link has just lost a fight to Master Kohga because he doesn't have a Sheikah Slate and so cannot counteract Kohga's magnesis-controlled giant metal spiked sphere, which impaled him and he is now suffering from massive blood loss. 
> 
> _He gasped for air, one final time, trying to commit her to his memory, and that seemed to be the very last assault his body could handle. Because within seconds he lost all sense of the world, his final thought was of his silent princess, and of a lullaby, that would forever haunt him till the end of time._
> 
> TW for Chapter 1: blood loss, major character near-death

Zelda's POV

She shrieked as his body went limp in her arms, his eyes lost focus and shut, his final breath ragged and harsh and all things breathing shouldn’t be. “NO! LINK!” 

He didn’t respond, and for the first time his silence wasn’t like a grater against her constantly bleeding wounds of incompetence and failure, but rather it morphed into a harbinger of despair. 

A flood of emotion hit her, in the silence he left behind; the guilt that this was her fault, that he’d suffered so much because of her, that he was _dying_ because of her stupid, idiotic, _pettiness_. Because that is what this was about, her unfounded jealousy over him, over his infuriating flawless character, over his constant, suffocating presence with that Goddess-damned sword that meant he had his life sorted. She very nearly crumpled into pieces, because suddenly, in the space of two days, she’d completely changed her perspective of him. He was so much more than an automated decimator. 

And again, it was her fault for never looking deeper than surface level. 

All of it. 

_All of it was her fault._

She forced the tears back and checked his pulse. 

Thready, but there. It was _still there_. That meant she had a chance. 

She allowed herself one second, just one, to recompose herself, and ignore the festering swamp of emotions that climbed through her chest and felt akin to drowning. She steadied her shaking hands and critically looked over his mangled, and heavily bleeding back, thighs and calves. 

The blood was leaking out too fast. That was why his pulse was thready. There just wasn’t enough of it to keep a steady circulation. She had to stop him losing any more, and fast, otherwise there would be no pulse left. And he also probably had a pneumothorax somewhere, seeing as there were huge holes that had most likely punctured his lungs, and as a result he was struggling to breathe.

She moved like lightening, now she had a plan of action, and ripped apart her shirt, which was remarkedly easy seeing as it was already split rather conveniently down the middle, his trousers (which was harder, but she needed to see the extent of his wounds). She had no time to spare for blushing, or for touching him in what felt like a semi-intimate way. Last to go was his shirt, which she’d left to the end because it was already soaking with blood and ripping it proved very difficult. She flipped him around, and unceremoniously dumped him face-first into the ground. 

She needed to do something. 

Anything. 

To help him. 

And right now, being soft wasn’t the answer. 

She pressed his shirt into his back, alongside her own shredded one, and sat on top of it, using her body weight as pressure to stop the bleeding in his back. It would also work to stop outside air filtering into his lungs and ruining the pressure system that he needed to breathe. It was a temporary fix until she could actually sew everything shut, but first: deal with the blood loss. 

She tied extremely tight knots into both his upper thighs, they would need to be loosened later so he didn’t lose the limbs, but right now, emergency steps had to be taken to stop him bleeding out. 

Okay, what next? She moved to his lower back and used one of the ripped strips to wrap around his chest. It wasn’t tight enough. But it would have to do. 

She scrummaged through her meagre supplies, found the biggest needle in her selection, the thickest thread she had, and shoved the thread rather discourteously inside the hole, nearly swearing when the damn thing wouldn’t go in. She hastily fashioned a knot on the end, and then pressed the needle into him, pinching up the torn muscle first, still bleeding, raw and pink, and sewed it shut. She had no idea what she was doing. Was it normal to sew up flesh under the skin? She didn’t know. It was bleeding, and the only thing she had that could stop it was thread so she would have to sew it shut. 

There was no other choice. 

She replicated the same for the skin above, and then repeated the whole motion, twice sealing in the same hole. That still wasn’t enough, because blood started to leak through the small gaps.

She nearly tore her hair out, before looking at her hands, red-stained as they were and realised that probably wasn’t a good idea. 

How could she stop it now?!

What else-

OH!

She flipped the needle around 180 degrees, and then sewed horizontally across the wound as well. 

It was a circle, nearly a cone practically, no wonder it wouldn’t shut with a simple vertical stitch. It was only now, with the blood flow significantly reduced that she could make out the true nature of the wound. 

Which all made sense, seeing as he was impaled with giant spikes. 

She moved onto the next hole, and the next, and the one after that, falling into a routine, a systematic way of closing all his wounds. By the time she’d sealed the six biggest holes, she moved to the end of his body, and propped his legs up, to help redirect blood flow back to his heart, before she sat back down and continued through the sticky mess. At the end, with the last hole in his upper back now shut, the smallest of the lot, she took a deep shuddering breath. Although she scrunched her nose when a sharp metallic odour permeated through, which she had somehow managed to block out until now… It was another reminder of how much blood he’d lost. She shifted focus, she’d been very careful around his lungs and tried her hardest not to puncture them anymore with the needle. She didn’t know what else she could do for him, with the limited supplies that she had. 

She had ignored his weak, barely present breathing, instead focussing on how he was still warm under her touch. Still alive. She hesitantly placed her hand on his neck, her index and middle finger checking for his carotid pulse. 

It was stronger, still thready and patchy, but _stronger_. 

She heaved a sigh of relief, and gently wiped down his back, thighs and calves with the final strip of material that remained, using the last of the water they’d been given to at least clean some of the blood off him. She’d used the rest of the small cup to alternate between washing the needle and removing the excessive blood so she could see what exactly it was she was dealing with. Thankfully, his breathing seemed a little less erratic too… the emergency wrap she’d applied clearly worked to stop the worst of it. All of these were good signs, from someone who had been so close to death’s door. 

Now that all the adrenaline had rushed through her, now that it was finally calm, and she could take a moment to breathe, she realised how disgusting her fingers felt, drenched, tacky and with so much blood congealed under her fingernails. 

It felt horrible, and she looked at her bloodstained hands, wishing she had some way of wiping it off. 

Maybe it wouldn’t come off. 

Maybe it would be her guilt to carry.

His _sacred_ blood that stained her _unholy_ hands. 

She hoped Hylia appreciated the imagery. 

She released a heavy exhale. No good would come of insulting the Goddess. She recognised that really, she was only feeling this spiteful because of her own failures. And her own guilt. This wasn’t Hylia’s fault after all. No, this was all Zelda. Through and through. All the flurry of emotion that she’d kept under wraps, working instead to save his life, focussing on how to angle the next stitch, how to wrap up the next wound, how much to loosen the tourniquets she’d made… all of it came hurtling through her. 

She nearly screamed, the blood on her hands, in between her nailbeds, on her clothes- no it wasn’t hers; it was _his_ shirt. His tunic. She suddenly felt like she was suffocating, and she very nearly threw up.

Why?

Why had she decided to leave him that morning?

She’d had plenty of time apart from those piercing, judging, calculated cerulean eyes to be able to handle them again. A whole three days in coming to Gerudo Town, and another two with Urbosa before he finally showed up. That was a week’s break. 

She had absolutely no excuse, for running from his sight again. 

Why did she behave like a petulant five-year-old?

If she hadn’t be so self-centred, so obnoxious, so damn foolish- she should have known better. She should have known the Yiga would be there. She should have understood the wisdom behind her father’s appointment of Link as her Knight. 

Then again, she never seemed to be blessed by the Goddesses in the way her ancestors were. In the way her grandmother was. In the way… her mother was. 

He started to shake, probably from the cold and not having enough blood in his circulation. 

The least she could do, was be useful, and provide some body warmth. 

So, she bit down her lip, fought away the presiding guilt that deemed her unworthy for his touch, unworthy for his hold, unworthy to be the one to help him. 

Goddesses she hadn’t been lying when she said he deserved so much better. 

She used the very last of the water given to scrub at her nails. Force the blood out. It felt selfish, but she knew she couldn’t give him water right now. He was barely stable, hardly capable of intaking food. Ideally, she would give him a potion. If that wasn’t available some sort of blood replacement product. But she didn’t know his type. She just didn’t know much about him in general. 

_She’d never bothered to learn, after all_. 

Yet another saddle of guilt lumped onto her, because now she wasn’t only responsible for getting them in this whole mess, for letting him get so heavily injured, for his near death, she was also responsible for never making a single effort to get to know this man, who so willingly, so selflessly was ready to give his life for hers. 

Was it only duty? Hell. She had a duty. A huge one at that. Didn’t mean she didn’t try to skirt around the incessant praying schedule she had. 

Then again, Link was cut from a different cloth. He- He wasn’t like her. She at least, was normal enough to take time out to do things she liked. He seemed content to just… melt into the shadows and follow her. 

_Always_

Always following her, without a single complaint, regardless of whatever she said, whatever she did, whatever her behaviour was. He would still, without fail, follow her. If she was in his place, she would have given up a lifetime ago. He didn’t seem to have a… life, no, a will, of his own. 

Which is why she thought him to be robot. Because honestly, it seemed like he was programmed to be her personal Guardian and nothing else. It was only last night that he’d spoken words to her, words that… because he had never uttered any in her presence beforehand, took another meaning. 

He’d comforted her, held her up, whilst she suffered through humiliation. 

The same person who had refuted him, scolded him, ran from him countless times, to the point where she was now responsible for their imprisonment and everything that followed. 

Just who was that selfless? 

…Perhaps that was still programmed Guardian behaviour though. 

Either way, the guilt didn’t ease, as she settled down, by his side and pressed his shivering body closer to hers. Guardian or not, she was thankful for him. Grateful for him. And that was why she had resolved to apologise again for her actions, and now, why she would attempt at to right at least one of her wrongs- not getting to know him a little. She hadn’t expected the Yiga to nearly kill him today though, she’d expected-

Well. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but maybe something similar to her own torture… not ramming giant spiked spheres into his entire posterior half. 

She promised herself, if she was given the chance, to try to find what lay between behind those calm waters. To try to talk to him a little. If he was willingly to lay his life down for her, then she should at least get to know who he was. She had a feeling that perhaps, with time, they could at least grow to be friends. 

It suddenly hit her. Wasn’t this whole change in her perspective so strange? It wasn’t that Link had changed... On the contrary. It’s just that she finally saw him for who he was, a glimmer, of the person he concealed inside. 

And she ached to know more.


	2. A new hope? Or fear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

She hadn’t yet managed to fall asleep properly, still caught up in trying to sift through her thoughts, but the Yiga barged in, jolting her awake from the pseudo-sleep she was in. 

Three Blademasters aimed their windcleavers at her neck, and Link, her Guardian, her protector, her Knight, was still deeply unconscious and as such did not respond. 

She suddenly had a realisation.

She could protect him for once. 

It wouldn’t repay all that he’d done for her, but it was the least she could do for him.

“I’ll go with you. Leave him here- please!” They remained unmoving, before three Foot soldiers also teleported in, and moved to grab her Knight. “NO! No- don’t take him, please, I’ll come with you!”

They ignored her. Laughed in her face. “He’s still alive?! Yuga above. Well… this should be interesting.” He raised one finger at Zelda, “And stop your incessant babbling! We aren’t the Silent Knight who will put up with your whims. And we have no use of you. But him… Well.” 

“Do you think he’ll be a valid subject then?”

“Only way to find out is to bring him to the Lab.” The first one responded back. 

They all nodded, before the third Blademaster, who had remained silent for the entire exchange, paused, hesitated a little. “Actually, you know what- we should bring her. It’s not like she can do anything to us anyway. And it will be fun to watch her **squirm**.”

The other five stared at him, and Zelda just hauled Link’s body closer to herself, her hand across his neck, checking for his pulse. They wouldn’t be able to tear him off her. She would adamantly refuse to let go. She didn’t look at them, it wasn’t like she’d be able to read their facial expressions. No. No more lying to herself. It was because the truth burned. 

_She really was useless_. 

“You raise a valid point. Why not indeed.” 

They hauled her up from the floor, and wrestled Link’s prone form from her fingers, “WILL YOU STOP STRUGGLING. THIS WILL HELP SAVE HIM YOU FOOL.” The first one shouted at her, his masked face a hair-breath away from her own. She stopped at that- hesitant, not quite trusting but what else could she do? And she looked to Link’s back, with the wounds were threatening to rip. He couldn’t lose more blood. He was a ragdoll in her arms, and she couldn’t let him die, now, to satisfy her ego.

She let go, accepting defeat, and the clamps came down, with magensis in place, and the second Blademaster threw Link’s body over his shoulder. 

Zelda hadn’t yet been clamped, she’d seen Link go under its control, but it was the strangest sensation. She couldn’t move. She no longer had authoritative power over her own limbs. She was effectively paralysed. 

The weirdest thing though, was that this control seemed to be coming from the Yiga’s own hand. They appeared to have mental control over metal- how?! They were carted through the Hideout, through the stone door that apparently could be controlled via magnesis too, and then teleported into what Zelda could only assume was the laboratory.

She stared, wide-eyed at all the contraptions in the room. As a scientist, she conducted a systematic observation, starting from the ground up. Guardian legs were assembled and assorted in piles, and there was so much scrap metal that lined the place. Elixirs were stacked on the floor, under all the tables. And on the table-

Oh. 

Oh Hylia. 

It was a cylinder of sorts… But she couldn’t- she bit her lip in frustration. She didn’t have the appropriate vocabulary to describe it. 

It looked like water, but it was coalesced together, almost gelatinous and it was the same colour as Link’s eyes- her gaze involuntarily snapped to him, and his still unmoving form. What if he was in a coma? What if he didn’t wake up? She knew of cases where people had thready pulses, and a beating heart with moving lungs but they were no longer living, braindead from the lack of oxygenation during their injury. 

She forced herself to look away, biting down yet another tidal wave of guilt. 

The _water_ was suspended in the air. Huge magnets were spinning around the suspension, in a dizzying pattern, all coordinated enough to hold the water in the vague shape of a sphere.

What exactly was going on?

“BLADEMASTERS!”

They all stood to attention, the Foot solders holding Zelda in place moved closer. 

“Is this a potential subject?” It was a researcher she realised. 

“Yes. He’s alive but… unresponsive. On the brink between this world and the next. That is what you needed, right?”

The researcher’s hands shot up to his face, as he did a little dance around Link. Zelda felt sick. She wanted to throw up. Link wasn’t a toy for them to play with, or experiment on! 

_All her fault all her fault all her fault_

“Perfect!” He waved one arm towards the contraption and one magnet slowed down, enough to offer enough time for – 

Oh Goddesses! What- what were they going to do? Put Link inside?! 

“IN THE NAME OF CALAMITY GANON!”

And in Link went, cocooned in the water’s hold, surrounded by magnets. The researcher clasped his hands together, in a rapid movement, his finger’s interlocked, and _the magnets moved_ impossibly closer, faster, swirling around Link. 

She bit her lip, hard, trying not to scream. She didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing. She didn’t know how safe it was. She didn’t want him to be the subject of a Yiga Experiment. She wanted him safe, she wanted him with her, but mostly she just wanted him to be okay. 

His body stretched and tumbled. Zelda’s attention flipped, drawn to what she could decipher, analyst as she was to the core, and realised he was moving in the same direction as the water particles were. In a morbid, horrifying way, it was fascinating, because she could start to understand what was going on. Link was 70% water, so it made sense he would react in the same way- 

Belatedly she realised the Lead Researcher, as she was going to call him, was ordering other researchers, located on top of several staircases of varying height all around the sphere of water, who were controlling each individual magnet. He stepped away and looked over his clipboard. “Hm. The Shrine of Resurrection was clearly appropriately named. Combined with our magnesis, and the rapid processing of his wounds using the healing waters we found... I’d estimate this should take a week-”

He turned back to face them, and looked at the Bladermasters, his hand in a dismissive motion, before his gaze landed on Zelda. “WHAT?! YOU BROUGHT HER HERE?!”

The Blademasters stepped back as a cohesive unit, “We thought-”

“No, you didn’t think, you just acted! Like the giant brutes that you are! She wasn’t meant to see!” 

The first Blademaster took reproach to that, “ **Hey**!”

“It doesn’t matter now, what’s done is done, take her away! NOW!”

Zelda fought, fought against the clamps, no she would stay here, with Link, she was terrified- what was going to happen to him? Although, resurrection sounded promising, and so did healing water, she wanted to be here when he woke up, she- dammit- they teleported her out, and back into the cell. 

She was left pacing the small square, knowing sleep would evade her tonight. 

She heaved a heavy exhale. Only one thought remained in her mind.

**This was all her fault**.


	3. A new awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we are back to Link’s POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the psychic damage begins...

_Open your eyes…_  
Open your eyes  
Open your eyes 

_Wake up…_

_You are the darkness, our darkness that must encroach upon Hyrule, with Ganon… once again!_

He awoke, coughing, spluttering out the remnants of… water? His ears felt blocked, and he only half-heard something about darkness but he wasn’t sure. He squinted his eyes open, the harsh blurred red that greeted his fuzzy vision gradually morphed into a more recognisable connection of grid-like lines, which thrummed around him. He was suspended he realised, as the water slipped away, and he fell, alarmingly, to the ground. The crimson lights blinked on and off, and soon, they turned off entirely, so that a blackness permeated the air instead. 

“Ah. The Process is complete.”

What? Who? He blearily looked up, trying to get his damn body to function, rubbing the heaviness out of his eyes. 

Goddesses his head _ached_.

He slowly sat up, on his heels, and then shifted his weight onto one leg, standing up slowly. 

The man (?) who had spoken to him, had a ceramic white mask on, with a scarlet upside-down eye pained on it. A bloody-burgundy coat flailed around him, dramatically, as he zoomed up to him. He pulled the mask off and smiled at him. 

Well, he seemed nice. 

“Okay, just some rudimentary examinations to start us off, and make sure everything is fine… Whilst I assess you, would you be up for answering some questions? Make the whole thing go faster for us both.”

Sure? He just nodded his assent, as the man began to hover around him. First up a torch was shoved right in his face and moved across both eyes, before he involuntarily flinched away from the harsh light. “Good pupillary reflex…”

The man jotted that down on his clipboard. “Okay, so first question, real easy, what’s your name?”

He opened his mouth to respond, before drawing a blank. 

...Wait, he knew his own name, right? 

He scraped through his memory, growing increasingly panicked when he realised that actually… no, he didn’t. He had absolutely no idea what his name was. And not just his name, but everything about himself had vaporised into a dark hole. 

Uh. 

_What was his name?!_

He looked down, maybe there would be some clue, nearby. All he got was that he was in a pair of navy boxer shorts. 

The doctor (?) had since moved to check his elbow, he was doing some “reflex” thing, and then he was at his wrist, mumbling something about pulses. “Yes, so, name, please?”

His eyes snapped back to the man, you know, actually, this guy was probably his best bet of finding out some key details. “Uh. Um. My name-” Spirits. How would he phrase this properly without sounding completely insane? Hi, my name is _unknown_ , could you please provide some details about me that I should know? XoXo? Because, as he trawled though his meagre memory, he realised that a rather specific assortment of things had vanished- his personal details, his actual memories, essentially his identity. He had no idea who he was, where he was from, if he had family… but he could still think, speak, and move… 

“Oh, so you can speak!”

He frowned. Why wouldn’t he be able to speak? “Yes. I’m just, well, I appear to have- er, forgotten my name…”

Wow. That was mortifying to admit. 

The man leaned up close, his face right by his own, and that made him feel just a tad uncomfortable. A flurry of strange expressions cross his face that he couldn’t quite read... a mix between slight confusion, which morphed into more relaxed features before finally looking at ease, but why- “Ooooh memory loss is a side effect.” He awkwardly sighed, “That’s better than what I was expecting to be honest. Well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased that I can fill in some of the gaps?” He stepped away, reattached his pen to the clipboard, a growing smile on the doctor’s face, but there wasn’t much to smile about in his opinion really. “So, I’ve completed your physical assessment and you are now in… well, I wouldn’t say _peak_ health but you’re alive and stable and that’s better than where you were at a week ago.” On second thoughts, that was fairly decent news to be fair.

He nodded but he still felt incredibly lost, without his own name, or any details about himself. It was disconcerting, he kept on trying to probe his mind for information that should be obvious, basic facts that everyone would know about themselves but nothing turned up, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Your name is Ravio. We are in the Yiga Clan Hideout. We are both members of the Yiga Clan. I am a researcher, Anto, and you, you are one of our Captains of Yiga Foot soldiers. You were heavily injured in a fight to defend our Clan, to the point where we thought we would lose you. But we put you inside a contraption we’ve made to mimic and increase the efficacy- uh, never mind. The point is, we saved your life, but as a consequence you now have… some form of memory loss. I promise, I will fill in the rest of the gaps, but for now, it is imperative you rest. You have been through an ordeal recently, and you need to recuperate strength. And who knows, maybe with some sleep you’ll... regain some of your memory.”

Ravio reared backwards, fisting his hands and looking away from Anto. That… was a bucketload of information. Who were the Yiga Clan? Why were they being attacked? He was a Captain? Of who? And where were his men? But as he thought up the last question, he unexpectedly yawned, and realised he felt increasingly sluggish, his eyelids felt too heavy to keep open. The man, Anto, moved forward, catching him, and then he hauled him upright. 

“Come now, Ravio. We need to head over to your bedroom; you think you can walk a few steps?”

He hesitantly nodded. They stumbled through a door on the left, and down a short corridor, ending in a dead-end room.

Ravio suddenly realised he hadn’t seen a single window this whole time. Were they underground? Anto brought him over to a bed he hadn’t even noticed, preoccupied as he was with the weird orange lanterns and the absence of any external light. 

“Sleep well, Ravio. Tomorrow… We’ll fix the holes in your memory.”

He smiled at Anto, reassured, and then closed his eyes, allowing sleep to pull him into a blissful embrace. 

Although… two things were disturbing him. The first was a flicker of a calling, an itch that he felt under his fingers, but for what he didn’t know. 

And the second.

That was even harder to describe, fleeting moments of warmth, the sea-green of the ocean, a hauntingly familiar blue and white... flower, coupled with a few notes from a song he knew but couldn’t remember. Somehow, he felt like he should be _holding_ the cumulative form of the above, but that was ridiculous. How would one hold the sea? Or a song?

He sighed; it was probably another hole in his memory that he was sure Anto would fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Premise of the story is now set up folks. See you all for the next chapter where the brainwashing begins. 
> 
> Also: I have since created a tumblr account which was a struggle but I have succeeded at doing social media. Considering I'm only twenty it shouldn't have been as hard as it was but uh... anyway. Here is the link if you'd like to pop over and say hi! 
> 
> http://silentprincess17.tumblr.com/
> 
> Side note: SKYWARD SWORD HD REMAKE YES GIVE ME ALL THE ZELINK NINTENDO. (Cough I am a little sad about the lack of BOTW2 news but you know this is better than nothing)


	4. Will you stand with us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some lore!
> 
> And psychic damage!
> 
> TW: mentions of genocide and death

Ravio woke up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up. He shivered, as the blanket pooled around his waist, exposing his chest to the cold. 

Damn. Was the Yiga Hideout in the mountains or something?

Anto popped in, through the only door into the room. He nearly jumped, he wasn't expecting to see him, and he was disorientated from the lack of natural light. It was impossible to know what time it actually was.

“Heyo Ravio. You alright?”

He nodded. He was… okay. Ish. Anto didn’t have his mask half-on today, and as such Ravio could see his head full of thick white-coloured hair which shocked him a little. Anto wasn’t that old right? His eyes were blood red, which seemed to be magnified in the pale auburn glow of the room. 

“You remembered anything else?”

He gritted his teeth. “No.” The truth hurt, but other than those two feelings he had from the night before, he hadn’t really recuperated much from the emptiness where his memories were supposed to be. Interestingly, Anto looked a little… relieved? Which struck Ravio was weird, but then again, maybe it was easier working with a blank slate rather than someone with half-filled memories. 

“Well. We’re going to be doing some basic exercises today, to get your strength back up, and then I’ll sit you through the… well, the history of our Clan. And what we stand for.”

He nodded. That sounded good. Anto blew out the lanterns, and directed Ravio out of his room. They walked through the short corridor, and into another chamber, with lit bronze lanterns and small garnet wedges of wood in a string decorating the door. It was a miniature training room he realised. _Was it just for him?_

He didn’t have much time to think, as Anto began his examination of Ravio, and this time he made several measurements around Ravio’s neck, arm, chest, thigh and calf. 

He was confused, to say the least. “What… are you doing?”

“Taking measurements for your armour of course! It all, uh, got destroyed in the fight so we’re making your custom armour from scratch again.”

He frowned. “Wouldn’t you already have my measurements?”

Anto shuffled, awkwardly, “Well, you had been in the waters for a while, and you probably suffered some muscle loss. Best to be safe and redo them.” 

He didn’t press further, and shortly after they began the regimen. He was surprised to find the movements came naturally and he managed to complete the basic workout, albeit with considerable strain. Anto’s prediction proved correct, as he had indeed lost some muscle mass, but the memory of training was still deeply ingrained enough that he still remembered it… funny, how his name, an integral part of who he was, wasn’t. 

For the duration of the training, Anto hadn’t put on his mask, and ended up throwing across the room so he could keep up with Ravio, because unsurprisingly he wasn’t very fit. The man was as thin as a stick- he had no muscles at all. Ravio meanwhile, found that he was lean but clearly, he had a lot of power packed into him. He decided he rather liked his body… even if he was a bit short. It appeared that Anto wasn’t even expecting him to be able to finish it, let alone put up a decent show against him, “Hm… interesting in that you haven’t lost your reflexes… Then again you always did have a strong will. And you were only in there for a week too.”

Soon after that revelation, they moved onto weaponry, and Ravio lost his chance to ask questions, distracted by how he didn’t actually remember any weapon names. He sighed, as time passed, he wasn’t recovering his memories, no, instead he was discovering more gaps. Still, at least he retained his ability to fight- it turns out he was skilled with the Duplex bow, the Sickle and the Windcleaver, and this apparently matched with that he could do before, “You were always one of our more skilled Captains, Ravio.”

He stopped then, set down the Windcleaver that he was currently using to generate a gulf of air, frustrated at how Anto knew what had happened, and how he, who had suffered through the whole incident, had no clue. “Anto. What happened? Where are my men? I… I understand why we’re recuperating my strength, but I need some answers.”

Anto sighed. “You’re right. Come, we’ll head over to the laboratory, and I’ll set up my tableaux.”

Ravio followed, and this time instead of going into his bedroom, they went out of a door on the right, where he had first entered this little secluded area, he realised, and they ended up in a larger room. There was so much going on, he suddenly felt overstimulated. There were Yiga researchers running around everywhere, with huge metallic tables, that were covered in cylinder like structures that had cream-coloured segments between... metal (?) parts. It looked like a… claw? Or maybe the foot of something? Underneath the tables there were rows of little glass bottles, each holding a different coloured liquid. And then there was the whole décor of the room- huge tapestries hung around the four corners, candles burnt with flickering flames on small ledges, and combined with the now familiar auburn lanterns gave the whole place a rather… foreboding atmosphere. 

His attention was redirected to Anto when he gestured to a small side table, “There’s some food- banana and meat skewers to help get your strength up with some fried bananas because _we all love sugar_.” 

Ravio chuckled. “So, we’ll start off with who the Yiga Clan are… This is a-a long story to say the least. So, strap in buddy.”

He pointed towards the first tableaux, once Ravio took a seat, specifically in the centre, where there was a castle. 

“So, we live in Hyrule, and we are governed by the… well, some say righteous, but we don’t believe so. We call them the _treasonous_ Royal Family. Our story in particular begins around 10,000 years ago, although, the cause we serve, has been around since time began.”

He paused. “In order to fully understand, you must first comprehend three facts. The land of Hyrule harbours a curse. A timeless curse, from its very creation, that has doomed three individuals in an endless fight. The first soul is that of a demon, well… that’s what they call Him, and we’ll use that term for now, but his name was Demise. The second, a Goddess turned mortal, Hylia, whose blood is said to be carried in her descendants, named Zelda. This is the Princess of the Royal Family we mentioned. You are following so far?”

Ravio nodded. “The next is the Hero, whose soul is said to be tied to that of the Princess. Now, in order to understand the curse, we must first delve into why the three were fighting. Demise, the demon, wished to possess the Triforce, which for the purposes of this story, is something which can grant you a wish. But the Princess of that time, alongside her Hero didn’t want him to get his hands on it, so they sealed him away. But before they did that, Demise placed a curse on them both, dooming them to live in a perpetual cycle of _breaking free-sealing-repeat_. Make sense? Good.” He didn’t wait for a reaction this time and ploughed on. “You might think me stupid for bringing up legends that happened eons ago… but what follows from here is where we come in. See, Demise’s curse, extended beyond time, and the whole legend repeated itself across, many, many eras. He didn’t come down in the same form, instead he graced the world as Ganon, often named Ganondorf if he was a Gerudo male, and now, most recently, Calamity Ganon.” He pointed to the painting behind them, each with an iteration of Ganon depicted. 

Ravio was slowly coming to understand the story now, so clearly the evil being Ganon needed to be defeated right? Each and every time? He was suddenly glad he wasn’t the Hero. Can you imagine the pressure from such a destiny? He waited though; he didn’t want to make any assumptions… his ~~fragile~~ absent memory mocking him, yet again. 

“The problem. The issue. The reason why we disagree with this… well. It all began from the cycle that happened 10,000 years ago. We Yiga, we are a fraction, a split, if you will, from the original Sheikah. 10,000 years ago… there was no division between the members of the Sheikah. We were known to be a single tribe, blessed with magic, _and_ technology. We have retained this tradition, as you can see-” He gestured to the lab, with the technology strewn around the room. “And as for our magic, those skills have been passed down the line of Blademasters, with their Earth magic that results in stone pillars forming.” He waved his hands, “Anyway, back to the story. The Sheikah, as they call themselves, even if they do not resemble out ancestors in the least, have abandoned such principles. They live their lives as farmers and have forsaken what it means to be a true Sheikah.”

He coughed. “More on the current Sheikah later.” He hesitated, “Ravio- to make life simpler, I won’t go into all the details of our technology. What you need to know, is two facts: firstly, that 10,000 years ago, we were very advanced, and secondly, that we Sheikah, have always served the Goddess Hylia, and that meant serving her descendants- the Royal Family. In light of the impending doom- i.e., the Calamity, we created several machines, the largest were four Divine Beasts, and an army of automatous robots- we called them Guardians. These machines were tasked with aiding the Hero in his fight against Ganon, and the Princess of the time sealed him away. All was good, Hyrule was saved, with limited casualties and we rejoiced.” 

He was just about following. He had so many questions… How many times had this happened? Why did it keep happening? Wasn’t there anything anyone could do? And he was intrigued too- why did the Sheikah always serve Hylia?

Anto sighed. “This is where things start to go wrong. For context, we Sheikah have always stood with the Royal Family. Even when we were instructed to build assassination quarters in our Village- Kakariko, even when we were tasked with developing daggers that within the blink of an eye would teleport the victim to a place of doom where they would die, even when we were essentially the people who did all the Royal Family’s dirty work. We did it _all in the name of the Goddess Hylia_. But you know, people are never happy. And the King who followed a few generations after the success of the war against The Calamity, he deemed us Sheikah to be disloyal, he grew scared of our technology, he thought we would betray him.”

He laughed, sarcastically. “Did that fool not see, that everything we did, would be for him? Everything we did was in the name of Hylia, and thus for the Royal Family!” 

Anto slumped down, and Ravio made to stand to comfort him, he looked so troubled with tears forming in his eyes. “This is the saddest part of the tale, he _buried_ our technology, _destroyed_ the rest, and then began a _genocide_ against us Sheikah Researchers. He killed whoever didn’t accept his order to abandon our traditions and culture. We lost so much. _So much_ , Ravio. And that is when the Sheikah split. We chose to remain in the ways of our ancestors, whilst the current Sheikah, they chose to harbour onto their false hope with the Royal Family.”

Ravio frowned. “But wouldn’t the Ancient Sheikah have wanted us to continue to serve the Goddess Hylia, if it was something done since time immortal? What did we achieve by splitting?”

He vehemently shook his head, “No- no, Ravio. You misunderstand, we didn’t just stick with our ancestors from 10,000 years ago. We reclaimed our traditions from eons past, from when we were the assassins of the land, from when the Sheikah were a tribe feared. We decided to go against the King’s decree in all the forms we possible could, we went back to our original purpose, we- well, we effectively became what the King feared we would.” He nodded, self-righteously, “As it should be, because we serve a bigger purpose, Ravio, than just mindlessly following orders. _Our technology, our magic, our prowess in stealth_ , it is what makes us _true_ Sheikah. And we followed down this route because we’ve realised something else. Something the legends won’t ever tell you. Does this cycle not strike you as rather _redundant_ Ravio?” 

Uh… well. He couldn’t deny thinking that exact thought a couple of minutes ago. So maybe? But he had amnesia… “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you question, why exactly, Demise made that curse? You could argue he was just angry at being defeated… but we Yiga, we believe it was something else. Seeing the way in which the Royal Family treated us, the way they shunned us, humiliated us, imprisoned and killed us… Well, it made us question why exactly, the cycle existed. It doesn’t take much deduction to conclude that the Royal Family isn’t perfect. They hoard their fair share of evil acts too, and have blood-stained hands just as much, if not, _more than_ Demise or Ganon himself… And that brings me to the final point. When we looked for the reasons why Ganon, most often in the form of Ganondorf ‘attacked’ Hyrule… It was because he was from the desert, in a place of scorching heat and little water. He wanted to enter Hyrule, and take over, so that he could provide a better life for the women in his town, that he was King over. But you know, let’s just continue, and say he was evil personified, and that his destruction was necessary. Fine. Do you think his tribe, the Gerudo women should have been instigated against?”

Ravio shook his head. They weren’t to blame for the actions of one errant King, right? “Yes, well, the Hylian King at that time decided to exile them as punishment. They were pushed even further into the desert, despite knowing how harsh it was. Not only that, but their place of worship, the Spirit Temple, was converted into a prison, named Arbiter’s Grounds, in order to torture them, whilst they _awaited execution, for crimes they never committed_.” 

Anto rubbed his face in his hands. “Essentially, we recognised that this was a… pattern of behaviour. The Royal Family, they never cared for justice, for true peace, for equality and freedom between all the races. No. They only cared about maintaining their own power, maintaining their own ranks, maintaining their own image as selfless, caring rulers over a land that has been cursed since its birth. Do you see now that the image of the Royal Family equating to Good and Blessed is wrong? And how that same misconception can extend to Ganon always being evil?”

… He was shocked. It made sense, in a way. For some reason initially he’d found it strange, and convoluted. But now… now it all clicked together. It was true, nothing was ever black and white. “Yes.”

Anto smiled. “So, that is why we Yiga exist. We now fight in the name of Calamity Ganon. We believe that there is a reason for the cycle. We believe that the end will come when Ganon succeeds, and cleanses the land of its pollutants, namely, the Royal Family. We believe that we must follow the way of our ancestors, honour what they would have wanted. And the truth is, they would have wanted a legacy. They would have wanted justice for _all_. They wouldn’t have wanted us to become mindless slaves to Hylians who will turn on you the moment you’re no longer needed… or for Royalty that doesn’t care for its subjects. And that, is why we serve Master Kohga, the leader of our clan, and by extension, Calamity Ganon.” He paused, looked up, right into Ravio’s eyes, and he saw the vulnerability in them, the trust Anto was displaying with bestowing this information on him,

“For such a being doesn’t _discriminate_.” 

Ravio felt the power of those words, he felt himself sweep up in the explanation, in the evidence Anto had given him. He felt like he was part of a worthy cause. One that would ultimately help Hyrule, not hinder it. And the betrayal… It seared him like a bleeding wound over his soul. His people, fractured, tortured, killed in the name of what? Fear over another race being superior? Anto was right. They had to seize control and take back what was rightfully theirs. And serving Ganon seemed to be the best way of doing that. Surely, he must feel this way because this is what he has always believed in? Anto was just returning his memories to him, and it felt good, to regain his purpose, to regain his compass in life. 

“By facilitating Ganon’s arrival, we will bring around a new Age of Enlightenment to Hyrule. We Yiga will be the harbingers of the true Ancient Sheikah. The last sign… the last piece of evidence I have for you, Ravio is a little more nuanced to understand, but I want you to have the full picture. Currently, we have observed numerous signs that point to the return of the Calamity, a rise in monsters, and in their bravery amongst a few. But perhaps what is most relevant for us; the current Princess… She is without her power. She has not been blessed by the Goddesses in the way her ancestors have. Thus, as it stands, the Kingdom of Hyrule _will_ fall to Ganon. And if that is not a clearer sign from the Golden Three, I don’t know what else could be.” 

Oh… _Oh_ Goddesses- it was all making sense. _The cycle was coming to a close_. It really was true. Anto pushed himself up from the ground and came over to him. “Do you remember what you once stood for?”

He held his hand out, “And will you stand with us, again, Captain Ravio?”

He stood, wrapping his hand right around Anto’s own. “I do. I will fight, in the name of Calamity Ganon. In the name of our ancestors, the Ancient Sheikah.”

He closed his eyes, his hand over his heart, “In the name of the Yiga.”

He knelt, as did Anto, alongside him, in front of the Tableaux of Ganon, “My allegiance, is yours.”

It was an oath he didn’t take lightly. And it was one he would fulfil to his last breath.

* * *

That night, Ravio was uneasy. He twisted and turned, his sleep tortured by those same two things, a calling he… wanted but feared to heed, even if he didn’t know how, and a feeling of something absent, something that should be there, something that he should remember and look out for. 

His dreams were not much better, this time… he saw flickering images, but they made no sense. He was in a blue tunic, he was kneeling in front of something, but he didn’t know what, he was in Hyrule, in the greenery, again staring at something but he didn’t know what and finally, he was in the desert, brandishing a sword the likes of which he had no recollection of but felt he knew… and even then he didn’t know what exactly he was doing.

Two things confused him, the first was that he wasn’t in Yiga armour, instead in a blue tunic, and the second… that sword, it wasn’t standard Yiga weaponry. 

Then again, he had wanted to hug the _sea_ barely a night ago, so his dreams weren’t exactly a reliable source of information at this point. Also, Anto had told him the Yiga regularly disguised themselves in the form of Travellers, it was part of the glamour they had access to, so that could potential explain his… alter ego. And maybe he had picked up the sword along the way? Something told him that it wasn’t that type of sword though. Then again, he had completely lost all sense of weaponry and their names so it wasn’t like he could investigate that missing piece of information either. 

Still. It bugged him, this person he was staring at. Who were they? Where were they? Why hadn’t they come to find him? 

He sighed, pushed his face into the pillow, and forced himself to sleep.

It didn’t work, he woke up again, several times in the night, breaking out in sweat each time. And at each instance, he awoke feeling increasingly troubled, over the story Anto had told him. 

He had made a vow, in the heat of the moment, in an effort to reclaim the lost holes in his memory, in order to feel whole again, in order to _belong_. 

But for some reason, it… didn’t feel _right_? And he felt guilty, over feeling this way. Surely Anto would have his best interests in mind, surely Anto wouldn’t lie to him, that vulnerability must have been true… and the facts did add up. It made sense as to why the Yiga were so dead set against the Royal Family, and all of the crimes they had done, hell, even the Goddesses were siding with them this time round. But Ravio… for some reason, he wasn’t fully comfortable with the idea of allegiance to the Calamity. Whilst he agreed, it was likely to be deeper than a black and white surface analysis of good and evil, Ganondorf had still committed crimes that made him uneasy.

And there was the sticking point: he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t have such doubts. 

He was sure the Yiga were correct, and that there had to a reason why Ganon kept on resurfacing, and perhaps it was the right answer, that in fact, the whole reason why the cycle existed was because of a greater good that Ganon would bring about. 

Despite that, despite all the logic that he kept repeating to himself, like a mantra, he _still_ felt uncomfortable over it, a small, irritable, nagging fear clung to his heart, vice-like, threatening to suffocate him. 

_For the love of the Golden Three, he just wanted to sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm driving myself nuts by renaming Link. Every time I type Link I have to consciously erase it and type Ravio. If Command F didn't exist I would have been so screwed.


	5. And so… we meet again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of death
> 
> Also this chapter is sad for Zelda. And confusing for Link. I’m sure we can all guess why 😓

Over the next week, Ravio settled back into his routine. He moved over from what he learnt was the recovery bay on his third day of consciousness, that he could remember anyway, into the dormitories. And he now had enough strength to partake in combat training with the rest of the Yiga, in their communal training room. He had also reconnected with his lost friends, all of whom were very understanding over his amnesia and happily roped in to fill in the empty spaces in his memory. 

He’d asked Anto about what happened to his men over dinner that first night, but he was met with a blank look, and Anto had told him he wasn’t ready yet. Every night since he had tried, and it was making him increasingly uneasy, but Anto said he first had to prove himself to be stable, and strong before he told him everything that had happened that night, now two weeks ago. 

Ravio was determined to get answers today though, he needed to know what had happened. 

Whenever Ravio would finish training, he’d come down to the lab and meet with Anto and they’d talk. But since he’d started pestering Anto for details over what exactly had happened, Anto would suspiciously disappear from the lab at the time Ravio was due to visit. It had happened several times these past couple of days, which meant the researcher was deliberately avoiding him. It was impossible to ask at any other time- in the mornings he was in physical training, and then it was lunch, followed by weaponry/skill-set training. And when they met for dinner, they would often have more company, and Ravio just didn’t feel comfortable asking about his apparently huge failure in front of everyone else. 

But not today.

Yesterday, the Yiga taught him how to teleport, and he’d spent the day practising it rather obsessively... It amazed him, because who knew Deku nuts could be so special? Now, all he had left to perfect was the distracting throw of red paper slips in order to confuse the person you were teleporting from… 

Anyway, this afternoon he’d quit training early, citing fatigue from overexertion these past couple of days. No one batted an eyelid, he had been through a lot recently, as he worked extra hard to recuperate his lost muscle mass and skills. 

He soon reached the laboratory, only to find Anto predictably missing yet again. Where else could he be, the man literally slept in the lab most days... Where else could he have gone to do experiments? It hit him all of sudden- what about the rest of the Hideout? Or even, beyond that, as in actually outside? He suddenly realised he had yet to actually leave!

Perhaps, he _should_ do some exploring. In so far, he’d remained very much in the centre of the Hideout. The “boxes” were actually quite deceiving, yet another example of glamour used by the Yiga.

Each box had a secret unlocking mechanism, it involved pressing a certain combination of rocks on one of the covered sides. This revealed the door that you then went down to the underground level of the Hideout. 

Here, no one wore their masks, and essentially it was the living quarters of the Yiga. There were dorms, Ravio belonged to Dorm Z, and there was the communal training room, dining room, and mess room for the various members to relax in. The only times Ravio had left the enclosure was to visit Anto in the laboratory, until he started avoiding him that is. 

He decided it was definitely worth a shot, to look around, and maybe see if he could find the sun. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt it’s glare on him... other than in his strange, strange dreams. 

He slowly meandered around the nearest box, instead turning to the left, coming to a doorway guarded by a Blademaster. The man let him through with a nod, and Ravio continued across. He ended up in another room with similar boxes, each probably going down to a different section of the underground level. Still, that wasn’t what he was looking for today. 

All of a sudden, the itching, gnawing sensation he had felt from that very first night, which had abated since he took up residence underground, hit him like a tidal wave. He fought the urge to fist his hands, or scratch his neck, instead retying his hair into a harsher ponytail, using the tension to force his hair back more, and distract himself from that awful sensation in the back of his throat. He walked around, determined to focus and achieve his aims, and not fall prey to the urge to give in to whatever this calling was. 

He reached the other side of the room, through a small corridor and he noticed a marked increase in temperature. He realised, irritatingly, the stone door he was currently facing opened with magnesis. 

It was a pity- Anto told him he never had control over the metal. It was a Sheikah-only skill. That was the other surprising thing, he’d come to realise that the Yiga were not just comprised of Sheikah as he once assumed. The researchers, and the Blademasters were Sheikah, and were predominately male. However, the majority of the Foot soldiers, and their Captains, like him, were not of Sheikah origin and were more equal in gender. Their families were often ostracised by the Royal Family, and they’d been abandoned, becoming scavengers in a harsh world. The Yiga had offered them a home, in return of allegiance, and for many, it was a chance at a life that was infinitely better than their current one, and for a cause that was worthy to them. Ravio had come to understand his family had lost their lives, and whilst that had been a sour pill to swallow, in light of the fact that he had no recollection of them, it made the whole thing bitter-sweet. It was strange, wanting to miss and grieve for people he had never met, and had no idea what they were like. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when he exited by teleporting out, and could _finally feel the sun_. His raised his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the brightness, and from the resulting neon-coloured streaks clouding his vision. It felt good though, to be outside. He should have made more of an effort to explore the Hideout sooner. 

He was abruptly distracted when he heard a cry emanate from the right? He quickly pulled out his Demon Carver, swivelling his head back and forth, his thoughts immediately rushing to defence, adrenaline surging, dammit he hadn’t worn his mask, he’d forgotten it in his bed back at the dorm. 

Goddesses, what if this was another attack, what if he failed again, what if-

“LINK!” 

The calling suddenly exploded, and he very nearly fell to his knees, it echoed and ran rampant through him.

He fought for control over the unsettling sensation that seemed to envelop him, biting his cheeks.

Through it all, one thing struck him. _Why… why did that name feel familiar?_

But it wasn’t for him, right? Whoever it was wasn’t calling him? No they couldn't be? His name was Ravio?

“LINK **You’re alive**!!! Thank Hylia!” 

He finally located the source of commotion, and he was momentarily stunned. Too many thoughts hit him at once, the first was that she was undeniably beautiful, the second, she was familiar, in a way that nothing since his awakening had struck him as, the third, most worryingly, _her tunic_ … he swallowed. Wasn’t that the tunic from his dreams? She was staring at him, sea-green ( _sea green_?) eyes piercing him. Her hands clutched the bars, and she seemed desperate. 

The final, resounded thought was that she was in a cell. And that meant-

“Ravio?”

Oh, it was Anto, he really was out here. Ravio’s eyes snapped to him, refocussing, and trying to swallow down the discomfort he felt at seeing that girl, and over the tricks his mind was playing on him.

“LINK?” She banged her hands across the bars, and he couldn’t help but wince, surely that would hurt? “Can’t you hear me?” 

Why did he feel sick? Why did he feel guilty for ignoring someone who was calling him by the wrong name? Anto looked back, and but Ravio couldn’t make out any of his emotions, his face was covered by the mask after all. He couldn’t stop himself, “Who is she?”

Anto sighed. “I’ve avoided you for long enough. I think it’s time I finally told you the truth. And… she’s the powerless Princess of Hyrule.”

“Link? **LINK NO**! LINK COME BACK, PLEASE- WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU?” Her exclamations got louder as they made their way inside. It took all of Ravio’s willpower not to go up to her and reassure her that he wasn’t her Link. He had no idea why she thought he was someone he wasn’t. And a stab of guilt hit him, because he shouldn’t care at all for her anguish- her family was the whole reason why this Clan even existed, for crimes they had committed. 

He frowned, wincing as the calling flared once again, harsher still from when he had first stepped outside, and instead of a whining drone that had permeated his sleep, it was practically thundering in his head. The calling felt so _strong_ , he could barely resist it, he wanted to block his ears, but he knew it was coming from inside him- Anto didn’t seem at all affected. He resisted the urge to scrape at his skin, digging his fingernails deep into his palm for some semblance of control, closing his eyes, taking several deep breaths. 

He put aside his mangled ball of emotions, and the screeching reverberations that was sending shivers up his spine which then wracked through his skull, instead focussing on the one that didn't make sense but he could solve: he was surprised to see the Princess here to say the least. “What? How is she even here?” 

He bit his lip, controlling the urge to scream to whatever it was that was calling out for him to _leave him be_. A random thought suddenly hit him, and he latched onto it like a lifeline- if the Princess was here, powerless, clearly, as she couldn’t escape, then that… well, it verified everything Anto had told him. He wasn’t sure why he had doubts, but seeing her in that cell... it affirmed his fate and his oath. He shook off the crumbling discomfort he felt over his allegiance, now finally accepting it to be true. That clutch of fear remained though, a little black dot on his heart, but right now, he had two aims- the first was not freaking out over this pull he felt and the second- his main priority, was finding out his failures, and not worry over his decision. 

Anto shut the door behind them, effectively cutting off the Princess’s cries, and thankfully, the calling also simmered down a little. Strange… was it linked to her? He’d associated it with being outside but…

They meandered back through the corridors in silence, Anto fidgeting with his fingers, Ravio distracted over what he was about to learn, over his insecurities, over how much seeing the Princess had jostled him, and over the true origin of the calling. 

They reached the lab, and Anto directed him back into the now empty recovery bay. 

“As you noticed, we managed to capture the Princess. It was around a week and a half ago. We’re waiting until our anniversary split from the current Sheikah to, well, finish off the job.”

Ravio’s heart suddenly pumped faster. Why? He should be rejoicing. Right? 

Anto coughed. “So, as I’ve told you before, the Sheikah, they still serve the Royal Family. We won’t go into all the details, but the two who are relevant to your story, are Impa, the Princess’s closest Advisor, and her recent lover-turned-fiancé, Maz. The Sheikah are meticulous in their protection of the Royal Family. As such, the Princess always has a legion of Shadows around her, well, she should most of the time. The key thing is that she doesn’t know they are there.”

He came to sit next to Ravio. “We Yiga are well-versed in disguise and observance as you well know, and we came across information that said Impa would be taking a week’s break. Interestingly, her lover, Maz, was also scheduled for annual leave, the next day after Impa. It appears they both had plans in Kakariko Village, but that’s not important right now. Princess Zelda still had her team of Shadows, and… her Appointed Knight, who is also the Hero – Link.”

Anto paused and seemed to watch him carefully, as if waiting for a response. Well? _Wait_. **What**?! “She thinks _I’m her Hero_?” The calling briefly flashed in his mind, but he dismissed it.

“Well, you do bare a resemblance to him I suppose. And it was from far away, up close perhaps it would have been more obvious that it wasn’t you. Then again, maybe she’s also delusional from the heat and dehydration. Either way, that’s not relevant right now.” He didn’t pause for breath and ploughed on, “The Princess clearly didn’t care for her own safety, and had escaped the Castle, whimsical girl that she is, instead running to Gerudo Desert, no doubt to visit Gerudo Town, where her friend Urbosa lives. The point is, Maz followed her, and managed to catch up. Her Appointed Knight, however, was late and didn’t realise she’d escaped until the next morning, by which point he was a day behind.”

He heaved a heavy exhale. “This is where you come in. We had just received communication from our scouts- only one, lone Sheikah was guarding the Princess, because he hadn’t had time to assemble his team of Shadows quick enough, and seeing as the Hero was also delayed, we had around 12 hours in which to take down this Maz, and then kidnap the Princess and bring her to our Hideout. So, we sent our best, you, your team of Foot Soldiers and several Blademasters. And once the Princess had left Kara Kara Bazaar, we engaged in a fight with Maz. We ensured to first teleport him out of the way of the Princess, hoping that at least some of the Foot Soldiers would be able to catch her before she made her way to Gerudo Town. But the priority was Maz, if we eliminated him, then we would be free to take down the Princess.”

Ravio could tell where this was going. “He defeated me, didn’t he? This Maz.”

“Remember what I said about you not having control over magic? And over how the current Sheikah have abandoned their practise of it?” Ah… He slowly nodded; he was beginning to have an idea over where this was going. 

“Yes, well, that rule didn’t apply to Maz. And we… we weren’t prepared for it.” He raised his hands skywards, “I mean, they literally swore off using any form of magic, but this guy clearly didn’t get that memo. To begin with, he multiplied himself into ten, with only one true copy, which confused everyone and hence he essentially had the manpower of ten people, all of whom could deal serious damage. When your team finally eliminated all ten, he then switched to using a laser beam of sorts… the likes of which we have only see on Guardians, to essentially wipe out most of your taskforce, and the Blademasters succumbed too. We couldn’t have anticipated the sheer size of his arsenal. You were amongst the few left standing, and you commanded the rest of the Foot soldiers to leave, taking a stand to buy them time, but what you couldn’t have known was that he had had specifically set metal cannisters in a perimeter around you. He shocked them all as they tried to escape. And… as you were the closest to him, carrying metallic weaponry to boot, so you received the maximum dose.”

Ravio bit his lip, feeling sick to his stomach. His men… burnt and electrified to death. It was a horrible image, and he felt anger burn through him. He would seek revenge in their name. 

“We only managed to save you, because our scouts at Gerudo Town reported seeing the Princess run in. We sent back emergency messages saying something must have happened to the original squad. You… you were always a tough cookie, Ravio. And you were the only one still breathing, faintly, by the time they reached there. Hence why we put you in the healing waters, and used the same technology that nearly killed you, to bring you back to life.”

Anto leaned across and pulled him into a hug. Ravio hadn’t even realised he’d been shaking, until Anto steadied him. “After Maz left, we lost track of the Princess briefly, and her Hero caught up, but she escaped again, fool that she is, at Kara Kara Bazaar, where we finally caught her and her Hero, who we killed. Hence why she is now in captivity, and we are waiting for the auspicious timing.”

He wasn’t particularly focussed anymore, all he could see was the blackness of his memories, the emptiness that meant he couldn’t even recall a single of their faces. Anto seemed to understand, “You go rest, now Ravio. Come find me when you’re ready... I’m certain you can guess now, what will happen next?” 

Ravio knew, he understood. Now, he needed to avenge his men. He fell down onto the bed in the recovery bay, unable to summon the strength to go to his dorm, the guilt, confusion, and unease he felt swirled in a messy pit in his chest. 

Unsurprisingly, his sleep was even more troubled that night, flashes of those sea-green eyes with that angelic halo of golden hair, frowning at him, smiling at him, pleading with him… but that morphed into scenes of a deadly fight, laser beams ricocheting off the Yiga, and he only woke up feeling increasingly frustrated each time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my friend (who beta reads for me) and I both ship Impa with Maz Koshia simply because there he’s like the ultimate Sheikah male warrior haha. I just think they’d be such a powerful pair.
> 
> Zelda’s POV is next! 
> 
> As always, any feedback is appreciated!


	6. Expectations vs Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: accidental self-harm, and intention for deliberate hunger strike. 
> 
> Zelda's POV this time

Zelda slumped down against the bars, cursed metal bars, her hands gripping them all the way down, and the friction was enough to burn her palms. 

The jolt of pain shook her awake, out of the tears that had unconsciously started to stream down her face. 

Goddesses. 

_He didn’t know her_.

He had looked, no, _stared_ at her, without a single shred of recognition in those empty cerulean eyes.

Even worse, he didn’t just seem to have forgotten who _she_ was, he seemed to have lost who _he, himself, was_?!

He was talking with the Yiga Researchers? So openly? In such a carefree, dare she say, _cordial_ manner? Did he not remember what had happened a couple of days ago? What they had done to him? To her? 

None of it made sense. 

She had wanted three things: for him to have recovered, to be safe and with her.

...There was one positive thing- at least he seemed fine. He was walking, talking, functioning, and that had to count for something, seeing how close he was to death just a week ago. That meant the healing waters had worked. The Yiga had mentioned something about a Shrine of Resurrection and waters from that… perhaps this could prove useful in the upcoming fight against Ganon.

She was clutching at straws she knew, anything to distract from despair at what Link had become- a shell of the man he once was. 

She nearly started to laugh, hysterically, wondering what had become of her promises. 

She had wanted to get to know him better, to understand him more, to learn what lay behind his calm waters. 

HAH now he himself didn’t know, he hadn’t even recognised his own name, let alone any facts about himself. 

Her Knight, who had given so much of himself for her, had nearly scarified his life, and now he had lost his identity. Which was more valuable was an interesting question. Would it be better to have died, knowing who you were, and what you believed in, or reanimated and indoctrinated to stand against everything you once fought for? 

Never mind that, because what had she done? She’d given him nothing but pain. Nothing but loss. Nothing but problems. Even if he talked to her, even if he came up to her, what could she offer him? Nothing. Because she didn’t even know his family, if he had siblings, if he had a mother, the only thing she knew was that his father was in the Royal Guard. The fact was she knew precious little about Link. And now, now they would both pay for it. The price of her pettiness, meant that she'd stripped him of who he was. And with no hope of getting him back, imprisoned and useless as she was.

_All her fault all her fault all her fault_

Goddesses. She truly was despicable. How would she even go about fixing this?

The Yiga seemed to have their claws embedded into him, and Hylia above knew she had wanted to be there when he had woken up, but who knew how long he’d been awake and under their influence. 

She wracked her brains, trying to figure out what had brought about this sudden 180 flip in Link’s personality. 

There was only one thing that could have caused this. 

… The waters. It must have had a side effect of memory loss. There was no other reason for Link to have completely forgotten everything he stood for. Because the Link she knew; that Link was honourable, loyal and devoted to the core, and he would never have willingly succumbed to the Yiga. 

She needed to have a plan, not for her, because Nayru knew she didn’t deserve what he had freely given her, but for him. Who knew what the Yiga would do with him, with his capabilities as a solider? Upon the Golden Three, having Link on their side, was comforting, reassuring. Whilst she had been bitter over it, simply over how it highlighted her own failures, she was undeniably glad they still had the Hero, with his skillset against the monsters and the upcoming Calamity. But now… now if he was working with the Yiga, entirely blameless because he had amnesia, and thus knew no better… she was terrified of what the consequences would entail. Their forces wouldn’t stand a chance against the Hero. 

And then they really would be doomed, the cursed Princess supposedly blessed but without power, and Knight, once sworn into service of the land, now actively conspiring against it. 

No. 

No, she wouldn’t let that happen. 

Hylia had already reserved her fate, but Link, no she would fight for him. 

She just needed to be smart about it. What could she do, stuck behind these metal bars, thus unable to go to him, and talk to him? Because she had to do something. She had to try. 

Her gaze landed on the cup of water next to her.

Ah.

She sighed, tipping it across the sand, watching the little rivulets seep into the grains. She had a plan, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.


	7. We need her alive, so you must go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Link's POV
> 
> TW: food strike mentions
> 
> Also this hurt my Zelink heart, beware for painful Zelink up ahead. 
> 
> And poor Link, the psychic damage is harsh.

Ravio forced himself out of bed, he’d been sufficiently traumatised these past few nights, and after yet another nightmare, he decided to give up. Faceless men burning in flames, electrocuted to death, himself running in the fray, wide-eyed and horrified at the carnage featured in his selection of nightmares. It meant he woke up, several times, in cold sweat, searching for a weapon to defend himself. Yesterday, around mid-afternoon after another restless night, he’d slumped down into the dining room, managing to eat a few bites of the creamy heart soup, before slipping back into his dorm and sleeping the rest of the day away. 

Anto had come to visit, and he hadn’t been able to talk, still holding back tears from what had happened under his command. Mostly, Ravio felt guilt. Not only over the fact that he’d failed, and let all his squadron down, no, but that _he didn’t actually remember any of it_. He didn’t remember the men who had died, he didn’t remember how close they were, he didn’t have anything to honour their memory by.

He’d stayed in bed for the majority of today as well, and it was now late afternoon, practically early evening. Anto came into his room, holding a meat and banana skewer. “For old times’ sake?” He didn’t move. 

Anto sighed, coming to sit down on his bed, “Ravio, I know you’re upset… But those Yiga, who had died in the name of the cause, they wouldn’t have wanted you to feel guilt over not being able to do more. None of us knew what power Maz harboured. The last thing they would want is for you to tear yourself apart because of guilt that is misplaced. Come now, eat something, if not for yourself, or for me, then for them. What use will their sacrifice be if you die?”

He reluctantly sat up, seeing reason, and he ate through the skewer. “I have… some news for you, Ravio.”

He looked up. “The Princess… you know how I told you we were waiting for our anniversary split to kill her and thus ensure Ganon’s success?” He hesitantly nodded, the unease he felt from that returning, and now he was frustrated. Frustrated with himself for not having more control over feeling this way. What, he saw that she was a pretty girl and that was it? He could never forgive her for what she’d indirectly played a role in. If she hadn’t left the castle, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t be here, with his squadron dead, and himself only a shell of a man that he once was. “Well, she’s refusing to eat, or drink. We tried forcing it down, but she bit on the Yiga who tried to feed her. She won’t intake any food until she’s seen you. She’s clearly delusional, but we need her alive and I don’t want to ask this of you, but I’ve been ordered to see if you could go, just for a few seconds, so that she will drink some water.” 

He heaved a heavy exhale before nodding. He briefly wondered if the calling would flare up. 

Honestly, he felt like he was being pulled in so many directions, he no longer knew where to turn.

* * *

Thankfully, he had better control over the calling, this time round he had a plan: ignore it and bite his lip whenever it got too strong. 

She didn’t scream this time, instead she watched him, observing him carefully. He hadn’t worn his mask, he wanted to feel the sun again, even if it was sunset, and thus, weak and pitiful. Much like himself. 

“Link-”

“My name is Ravio. You’ve seen me now; will you drink the water?” She stared at him, open mouthed, shock clearly colouring her features. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She stammered, mumbling, “It’s just that you spoke without-without hesitance is all.”

He frowned. Hadn’t that been the very first thing Anto had told him? The fact that he spoke... 

“Li-Ravio. Um. Okay, so you are a Yiga Foot soldier then?” Her eyes were focussed like lasers on him, and he felt a little bit vulnerable, almost, under the intensity of her gaze.

“Captain. But essentially, yes.” Why was he humouring her? Why was he answering her questions? Why did he want to brush that stray piece of hair from her face?

She took a deep breath. “Right. I- I know this is going to sound crazy. And you probably won’t believe me, but your real name is Link, and you’re the Hero of-”

“Will you cut it out? I’m no Hero.” The words tumbled out of him before he could stop them, he gritted his teeth, because the truth hurt. He was a coward. He had remained behind, whilst his men had died. A true Hero wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.

She clutched the bars, surging forward. “But you’re my Knight!” Goddesses, she sounded so desperate, her fingers white against the bars from the force she was gripping them with. He ached to peel them off, maybe hold them instead and massage some feeling back into them. Wait. No, he didn’t. 

He pinched his nose, using the pain to distract himself. “Fine, tell me something that only you would know, because obviously if I was your Knight then we’d be close right?”

He was not expecting her to look like she was about to cry. He’d only meant to humour her, not- But then her gaze hardened, and she met his eyes, the sea-green no longer calm but stormy, “I know every wound, every scar that decorates your body.”

He scoffed. “We were that type of friend then, huh?” Although, he couldn’t deny a small part of him wouldn’t necessarily mind that.

She blushed, beetroot red, and he smirked. “ _No_! It wasn’t like that! I sewed up most of them for you!” She wrung her fingers together, before fisting the tunic, and now he was closer, he could take a better look. It… it really did look like the one in his dreams. But it had been on him… what was it doing on her? “Look at your back, Link, look at the paired circular wounds I know are there. The diameters increase in size down until your lower back, and upper thigh, after which they shrink again to your calves. Why would I know that? Why would I know all of this detail if you were simply a Captain of the Yiga? Do you remember how you got those wounds?” 

He fought the urge to scoff again. “I-” Was it wise to admit he had amnesia? He looked into her verdant eyes, and felt an itching in his chest that he couldn’t help but give into. This helplessness he had towards her annoyed him and he scowled, making a confession that he didn’t want to, “I lost my memories a few days ago. So, no.” 

She sighed. “As I assumed, because evidently you wouldn’t talk to me like that otherwise.” 

Huh?

He coughed, eager to refute her claims, “Anyway, you could have seen me half-naked at some point in your time here… or even if I had a past mission involving you. There’s no guarantee that only your story is correct.” 

He could see the gears turning in her head. It made him uncomfortable, that vulnerability he felt earlier returning. He was already on an unstable foundation as it was, unsure over who he truly was, and she was only adding more doubt to his already weak resolve. He needed to fortify himself against her, he couldn’t be as plaint as he currently was. “Will you at least listen to what I will tell you? And consider it?”

He nodded, because this was easy, all he’d do is listen to her blabber on, and wait- “Only if you promise to take a sip with each sentence you finish.” Great, now he could be on his way out of here too. And this unease, this uncomfortable churning in his gut would cease. He was already looking forward to the relief he’d shortly feel.

“Okay.” She took a sip. “We were supposed to leave Gerudo Town that morning, to head over to Goron City, but I left you because we, well, we didn’t exactly get along. The Yiga ambushed us, captured us, and brought us over here, to this cell, in their Hideout. The long and short of it is that they tortured us- I got- never mind, it’s not important right now, but the second day, you fought with Master Kohga and he slammed a metallic spiked sphere into you- which is where you got those wounds.” She took three sips. He noticed she was talking faster, trying to get more words in before she had to drink. “I stitched you up overnight, and then the Yiga took you to this- laboratory I guess, and you went into their water cocoon with magnesis.”

He raised an eyebrow. Oh. So… she did know about his healing. Clearly that’s when she saw his scars, because Goddesses _why would Master Kohga fight him?_ “Let me get this straight, I suffered from presumably massive haemorrhage, you stitched me back up and then I went into the Yiga’s healing machine? Don’t you see you’ve just ruined your argument because that’s when you saw my scars- they’re all healed so we can’t judge the timeframe but what proof do you even have that it was this set of wounds that nearly caused me to die?”

He was frustrated to say the least. She seemed to be too, with a gentle dip in her brow, and he wanted to caress it off her face. He frowned. No. No, he didn’t. “I used blue thread to sew you back up, so you should find the thread close by on the floor m... perhaps above where you were held? It’s the same shade this tunic is in- this is yours actually, you, uh, gave it to me after what happened on my… torture day.”

He bit his lip. What had happened-

Wait. Wait no, he didn’t accept her version of events. This was just some random wound he’d gotten, she had visited the laboratory, seen him in the suspension, and conjured up this entire story. But she’d confirmed it was his tunic though. How had his tunic ended up with her? And he’d seen it on himself to boot. He felt his shackles rise, too scared to admit the holes in his memory terrified him. “There’s no guarantee what you’re saying is right.”

“Link you can’t possibly believe what the Yiga have told you? They are evil! They’ve… done things I can’t even think about, let alone to me, but to you! They’ve taken away who you are, you’re identity, and you believe them?” She sounded incredulous, haughty and incredibly aggravated. 

Goddesses. _That burnt_. He grasped the fragile hold he had over his patchy memories, the injustice he felt as she looked down on him, over his Clan, over his men _who had died_ And his anger outweighed this impulsive inexplicable need to comfort her, “The Yiga have a mission! It makes sense- why do you think you, your Hero and Ganon are stuck in this endless cycle? It’s because you’re _wrong_ , wrong to seal Him away every time. Your family is the one that’s cursed. Your family is the one that has committed heinous crimes. You, yourself, are cursed and for good reason too! The Goddesses have forsaken your family and have sided with us because it’s time to end the cycle! Don’t you think that’s a big enough sign that the Yiga are right?!”

He stormed off; unable to meet her eyes and see that haunted look of pain flash in them. He’d obviously hit a sore point, but in his defence, she had done the same.

* * *

That night, he was unable to sleep; her taunting words circling and looping inside the hollow cavern that was his mind. Restless, and uneasy as he currently was, he realised sleep would evade him until he had at least checked. He’d taken an orange lantern and made his way to the laboratory. It was empty. There was nothing under the metallic contraption he was once inside. But he noticed the floor was clean of dust and sand too, so he looked for the sweeper nearby. In the closed off section, full of dust, he pulled out one long strand of blood-stained blue thread. 

He flew backwards, in shock, his back hitting the leg of the metallic table, throwing the thread back into the trash. His hands shook, and he clamped them down on his knees.

Who did he believe?

Who was correct?

He clawed through his hair, tugging at it.

He slowly took a deep breath in, trying to stemmy the rising panic. To stop himself falling down a hole of despair at being unable to figure out who he actually was, at the betrayal of his own mind. So, he turned to the facts. He could figure this out, _logically_. He heaved a deep breath. 

There were two options. Two stories. Either the Princess and by large Hyrule, or Anto and the Yiga. 

A few things didn’t add up with the Princess’s version of events- 

1) Motive. Why would the Yiga set this elaborate scheme, find all these people and researchers to play into the lie that he was in fact a Captain? She, meanwhile, clearly had motive enough to tell him such an elaborate story… who knows, this thread could have been used to sew up anything really ( _but the Yiga used red, not blue_ )  
2) She was indeed powerless. If the Goddesses had chosen her, had favoured her and by extension, her Family, then she would have been able to escape and thus not be in captivity. That supported everything Anto had told him, which meant he had at least been truthful there… so the rest of his story could be true too.  
3) If he was the Hero, surely the Yiga would have killed him by now? Why would they string him along? ( _Revenge, maybe? But against what? Or who?_ )  
4) Anto had trusted him, he had opened up to him. Ravio might not have any memories, but he could still get a good read on people and that vulnerability he displayed the night he had confessed who the Yiga were… that couldn’t have been faked.

Whilst on the Yiga’s side:

1) How did the Princess get access to his tunic? It was the one thing he vaguely remembered, and he just couldn’t find any reason for it to have gotten in her hands. Maybe though, it was a common disguise? (So, the Princess didn’t get _his_ tunic, specifically, just a random one lying in the cell? He wasn’t sure…)  
2) Why did the Princess know of his apparently recently acquired wounds? Okay so she’d seen him in the laboratory but why had she even been allowed there? Surely that was a bad idea? He’d have to ask Anto.  
3) He couldn’t deny he had felt something stir inside him when he saw the Princess. (Then again, that could be from his final mission, seeing her escape and his subsequent near-death at the hands of Maz.)  
4) Anto had justified retaking his measurements due to the water suspension but what if he hadn’t ever had Yiga armour to begin with? What if he really was the Princess’s Knight? 

Then there were things that didn’t add up overall:  
1) Why did Anto think he didn’t speak? And this seemed to match with what the Princess said too… which meant they both knew past-him to not be liberal with his words? Anto, perhaps he could explain as having known him from before but how would the Princess know that? Or… if he’d known the Princess, then how would Anto?  
2) The calling. Because just what the hell was it? Why did it flare up when he went outside? Or was it linked to the Princess? If it was… then what did it want?  
3) The inexplicable nagging fear that he’d had since he’d woke up. He couldn’t even attribute it to anything.  
4) The sword he had in the desert. 

A final consideration, was that he could just be judgemental over the Princess because of the fact that he’d woken up with Anto. So, he automatically trusted him more, because Anto had helped him so much since his awakening...

He slumped down, the harsh, cold, metallic table leg digging into the circular scars on his back, his knees bent, and his head suddenly felt incredibly heavy, in his hands. Goddesses. 

He wanted to scream. 

Was he Ravio?

Or was he Link?

Was he the Hero of Hyrule, blessed by the Goddesses, destined to fight against the Calamity?

Or was he Captain of the Foot soldiers of the Yiga Clan, solider of Ganon, destined to bring justice to the Royal Family?

In the face of it all, the empty black hole stared at him, laughed at him, cried with him.

No. 

No that was wrong. 

It did nothing. 

Because it was empty, just like he was. 

The Princess was right. He’d lost his identity. And he had no idea which version of him was correct.

* * *

He’d stumbled back into his dormitory, determined to at least attempt to sleep. But it seemed the Goddesses were not done with torturing him that night, and now guilt surged through him like the tide coming in every evening. 

He’d have some semblance of control, logic, reason over why he acted out on her like he had, why he had hurt her the way he had, why he had essentially been the biggest jerk possible… and then he’d see her eyes, the pained, troubled look in them and everything he’d thought up would vanish, washed over with the guilt that remained. 

He sat up, for what felt like the millionth time that cursed evening. 

Okay, so he didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know which version was correct. And even if he leaned more towards the Yiga, that didn’t mean he had a right to be so awful to her. Maybe she was just demented like Anto was saying. 

So, he resolved to ask tomorrow if she was drinking her water. And if she wasn’t, then he’d pay her another visit. And apologise this time. Because yes, she had hurt him, when she laid his insecurities out so plainly, but in her mind, she was trying to help him, _probably_? And she was imprisoned, tortured, and clearly hurt from whatever it was the Yiga had done to her, so her actions made sense. His reaction, on the other hand, was baseless, because no one had allowed him to be this vicious against someone. And truly… he wanted to learn more. See if she could answer some of his questions. How much of her answers he could trust remained unknown, but he couldn’t deny that logically, it was important to least ask her, even if all it did in the end was fortify his current identity of being a Yiga Clan Captain…

The guilt abated a little with his new plan, he settled back down, wrapped the covers around himself, feeling ridiculously foolish over his actions, and over this feeling he should be holding something close. 

He refused to consider why he cared so much. Even if she had lost the plot due to dehydration, that didn’t mean he should have so much empathy towards the person who was in essence, responsible for his entire situation. 

Goddesses when would these feelings make sense? 

Or would it add to the list of inexplicable things that he now had no way of ever solving?


	8. An uninvited visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda's POV: Zelda tries to come to terms with what Link said.

Zelda had taken up a new hobby. She was stress embroidering. It was actually hard, without a hoop, but she was making do, and frankly the challenge was helping to keep her mind off a certain someone. She glanced as the Champion blue thread she was using. It wasn’t like she’d need to reserve it anymore, Link was fine, clearly, and didn’t need her help in patching up his body.

Oh no, he was clearly very capable on his own. 

With his newfound Yiga _friends_.

She sighed. It wasn’t fair to be bitter about it. It wasn’t his fault, after all he remembered nothing. Not a single spark of recognition… She’d thought that telling him the truth, what actually happened, and how they had ended up here would have stimulated some of his memories to resurface but no… The complete opposite happened- he seemed determined to find weaknesses in her arguments, to prove her wrong, something she had never thought Link, the loyal, ever-accepting, man-of-no-self-will would do. It was like he’d grown an entire personality overnight! And she had no idea what else she could even say. The problem was that essentially, he was correct. If he was her Knight, surely, she’d know more about him and who he was… and it stung, that she didn’t. She couldn’t even bring up one fact about him apart from his father, and details like when he’d become her Knight. Hell, she didn’t even know his Goddess damned age! How was she supposed to convince him, if she had no information to work with?

She sighed and stabbed his tunic with perhaps a bit more force than it warranted, and karma returned the favour as she pricked her finger. 

A crimson drop grew on her fingertip, and she watched it, before quickly applying pressure and sealing it off. She was in the process of sewing a Silent Princess design onto the front of his tunic, which she could easily access whilst still wearing it. She hadn’t noticed the rip before, but it must have happened at some point during their entire imprisonment. And she was currently using white thread to build around the blue she’d already formed in the centre. 

Her thoughts drifted again as she appraised what she’d done thus far. How times had changed. 

The man who was once her Knight, her protector, her saviour, had now become the man who worked to take down everything they once stood for. 

_Cursed_

That is what he had called her.

Which realistically shouldn’t have hurt so much, because that is what everyone called her, and even if they didn’t say it out loud, they definitely thought it anyway. But hearing it from him…it had affected her much more than she'd expected. Perhaps because it’s what she once assumed he thought of her, which again, meant it shouldn’t have hurt… but now that he was stripped of any rules and proprietary that might have governed his tongue to withhold such comments, now that he was, essentially, a free man… That meant that at his core, he must have thought that of her. She was proved right. He really did see her as a failure. 

She bit her lip, taking a deep breath, refocussing. And when she looked at the damn finger, it was _still bleeding_. She couldn’t help but remember the last time her hands had been soaked in blood, his blood, when she had tried so hard to save him. 

_When he was still hers_. 

And the guilt, over taking so much from him, over losing him, and now not only forsaking the Kingdom with her own cursed, inaccessible powers, but also stripping Hyrule of its Hero too. Now they were both failures. And who was to blame? 

_Herself_. All of it was her fault. 

Goddesses. 

She was so lost, in the blood, in her despair, that she failed to notice someone standing at the bars until they flicked one of them, the resounding vibration pulling her from her thoughts. 

**Link**?

What was he doing here? 

Especially after yesterday?

“Zelda?” He hesitated, and she remained silent, because this was the first time he had ever said her name, and yet… “Are you… okay?”

No. No she wasn’t. And now he was being nice, she could almost pretend nothing had changed, that he was still her Knight, that he still remembered who he was. She could pretend, that she could still fulfil her vow she made to get to know him, she could still pretend they had a chance of becoming friends. She could still fool herself. 

And then she looked into those icy blue, blank eyes, and knew she was without a chance. Suddenly, she felt angry, frustrated, that he’d come back, after yesterday, after everything he’d said, even if he couldn’t remember just how hard she tried to fulfil her destiny and duty. “Just a prick on my finger is all. I’m fine.” She sniffed. “Did you need something? Want to insult my failures some more? Go for it. I’m imprisoned and will have to listen to you. Whilst you… you can just _walk away_.”

Okay so perhaps that was a little _too_ vitriol heavy. She probably shouldn’t have said that. Oh well, she never had much control over what she blurted out. 

He visibly winced. “I came to apologise. I shouldn’t have said all of that to your face, even if it was true. You can’t be blamed for what your family have done eons ago…”

What was he even talking about? What crimes had the Royal Family committed that had affected him so deeply? She’d studied their legends multiple times, _over and over again_ , scouring over every source she could find that detailed any _Princess_ of Hyrule to see if she could figure out the key to unlocking the power. 

Either way, she wasn’t about to open that can of worms, seeing as he clearly knew more and would likely not appreciate the fact that she knew nothing about it. Best to just ignore it and move on. “Thank you. I apologise too, for-” 

Oh. Goddesses. The list was so long, where did she even begin? He didn’t remember her past apology, then again, he didn’t remember any of her past mistakes either. Perhaps to avoid confusing him even more it was best to just apologise for the ones he knew about. Later, when he had regained his true self, she could attempt to apologise properly and in full. “It’s my fault we were imprisoned. So, by default it’s my fault you’ve lost your memory Link. Thus, it’s my fault you now don’t know who you truly are.” 

She hesitated, watched in morbid fascination at how much more open this Link was. He was no longer her expressionless Knight, and she could read him like an open book. She had to wonder what had caused him to seal it all away, hidden behind a carefully cultivated neutral poker face. She stared at him now, as guilt, grief, uncertainty, all flashed through his features before he settled on fear. He was scared. Of what she represented. If she hadn’t been here… perhaps the Yiga’s lies would have been easier still to swallow. 

That meant she had a chance. This was her opportunity to sow in seeds of discord that could mean he would figure out the truth, even if it meant he would be psychologically scarred as a consequence. She hesitated. Actually. She had never seen Link be this open, this... relaxed, in a way. Did he deserve to be put through even more trauma after what she’d already done? Would this even work? She might push him into despair, and hadn’t she hurt him enough? 

“Did you come here for a reason Link?”

He shuffled, scuffing his boots against each other, kicking up the sand. This displeased her, she’d just wiped down the cell, and had cleared out the sand grains from her designated bed area. And now all of that effort would be wasted. “You said many things that didn’t make sense to me. If I was your Knight, why did you run away from me? Multiple times?”

Well, that was easily resolved. She knew the answer to that, for once. “I hated you. Well. Not you, specifically, but you as the Hero. You had the Master Sword, a sword you pulled from a pedestle, and you were capable of fighting. Whilst I-” She swallowed, fought through the feeling of tears starting to form, and her throat constricting, “like you said, I’m cursed. I have spent years praying for access to my powers, but it was, and remains, denied to me. So… I mostly resented you for having it easy, whilst I struggled endlessly.” Alright, that was two things down- her prayers and the Master Sword, hopefully hearing its name would trigger something in him…?

No, he just moved onto the next question, “How did we wind up here?”

That was more embarrassing to explain. “Well, I ran away from you again and this time I was ambushed by the Yiga. You fought, but they used a sleeping draught to knock us both out, and we ended up here. In this cell.” 

He remained passive; his brow furrowed. So, she asked a question, “What did they tell you?”

He ignored her, “So you ran away from me twice in the desert- once on the way here and another on the way back?”

She decided to go along with it. “Yes. Except, you weren’t there when I entered the desert, I escaped the night before and you couldn’t catch up in time.” 

He seemed to come to a realisation, and his gaze hardened, as he stepped back from the bars. _No- **no**_ that meant she had indirectly confirmed something the Yiga had said! She wasn’t ready to let him go, she had to do something- anything. She leaned across, her hand grazing the wound under his eye. He flinched. “Do you remember the story behind this scar Link?” He hesitated, looked down at her fingers, and then back at her. 

“You got it defending my honour.”

He stumbled back, uncertainty colouring his features again, good, that meant imbalance was restored.

He walked off, head hung low, and the guilt churned in her stomach. Was she doing the right thing? She looked down to her hand, powerless that it was, thought of Hyrule, her duty to the Kingdom and balanced it with his retreating form. 

She sighed. Neither of them had much choice in the face of destiny and duty. 

It would have to be done.


	9. Avenge your fallen soldiers, Captain.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... We're reaching the crux point of the story guys.

He’d spent the past two days in bed. Anto had shaken him awake, forcing him to drink water. He hadn’t even been asleep, he’d remained in a trance like state, torn between the two people he was supposed to be. Anto had later told him it had been a panic attack. Well. He wasn’t surprised to be honest. He’d crashed, after meeting the Princess, uncertain and troubled over it all. 

She’d confirmed he hadn’t been with her when she entered the desert- which matched with what the Yiga had told him about the Hero… But that also meant what they had said about him attacking Maz lined up too. And frankly, if the Princess had come alone, then that definitely matched with what the Yiga had said. But then she talked about him defending her honour, and he was left thinking what exactly the Yiga had done… it frightened him. Okay, so he understood the need to kill her to ensure Ganon could be revived, but that didn’t mean they could just- he shook his head and shuffled back under the covers, before realising he was too wide awake to think of going back to bed. 

He sighed, swung his legs off the bed, and shoved the armour on, deciding to work out for a few hours before the meeting today. Hopefully it would take his mind off the swirling pit of guilt, uncertainty, and fear in his chest.

Because he still didn’t know who to believe, and now he had to attend a briefing on how to avenge what had happened with his team. 

He just wasn’t ready.

* * *

He rolled the quill between his fingers, he was making notes, trying to make sure he had all the information to hand. If he did accidently lose his memory again, he at least wanted an easily accessible crib sheet this time round. 

Anto was next to speak to relay the communications from the scouts, but he’d already told much of what he knew to Ravio. Essentially, upon capturing the Princess, the Yiga had systematically wiped out the shadows that had tried to locate her and had killed the Hero too. ~~(Well, that was of course, excluding himself as the Hero.)~~ The remaining person who had yet to be brought to justice was Maz Koshia, the man behind this whole sorry mess to begin with. 

This was his first time meeting Master Kohga. Honestly, Ravio was a little surprised. He’d expected… well. He wasn’t sure what, but it hadn’t been a man who sat with his legs around the armrest of the chair he was sitting on, who cupped his face like a child, who downed several fried bananas in one successive go… 

He refocussed, Anto was now discussing the plan, and he needed to pay attention. He would be leading this. It was his duty as their Captain. 

“So, the plan, simply put, is to go to Kakariko, where Impa and Maz are currently located. It is best that we conduct the operation tomorrow, because we are on a ticking time bomb when they find out the Princess has been taken, so we need to act quickly before either of them leaves. The goal is to find Maz, and essentially eliminate him. Normally, we would move to threaten Impa, just because that’s how we’ve always worked, however, due to the skillset of the man in question, it will be best to conduct a quick assassination. This will be handled by Captain Ravio. All in favour?”

A round of “Ayes” were heard, sealing his fate, and Link felt his heart rate skyrocket. 

He had, at this moment, a choice. A rebound if you will. He could just say he was still recovering and so couldn’t risk doing it in case something went wrong, just to buy him some time... Soon, though, he’d have to choose. And from that point, there would be no return.

* * *

He was clutching a blanket in his hand, half-tempted to put it on himself really. The desert was a cold place at night, and he was shivering. 

Why had he come back here?

Hadn’t she caused him enough grief? Enough pain over who he was?

Perhaps… it was because within the next few hours he would be gone. And then, well, he most certainly won’t be her Hero. For some inexplicable reason, the unease he felt every night was lessened with watching her. It was strangely comforting, although maybe this was a little creepy. He shook himself out of it, and stepped closer, opening the blanket. Just before it touched her, she opened her eyes, dark emerald staring at him.

“Link… Why are you here?” Frankly he didn’t know the answer to that, and he didn’t want to give her false hope, so he shrugged. “Well, thank you. I… appreciate it.” She laughed, mirthlessly, “You know, before-well, before you were put in the contraption, on our nights here, we huddled close because there was no blanket. Good thing one of us is free now, hm.” 

That pricked him harder than he cared to admit. The guilt he felt, that churned through him, rose exponentially at that statement. “Why can’t you open the door Link? Isn’t that proof enough?”

He could answer that at least. “Not all the Yiga are ex-Sheikah. Some of us are Hylian too. Therefore, not all of us have control over magnesis.”

“Have you found someone without it yet?” …That was a good point. He hadn’t, no. She scoffed at his silence. “I’ll ask again, _why are you here_ Link?”

He looked away from her gaze, “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.” 

She frowned. “Why?” 

“I… need to avenge my men. The real reason why I needed to be put in the waters.”

She moved, all of a sudden, jarring him from his thoughts. She clutched at his armour, fisting it through the bars, the blanket falling off her, “Hylia what did they tell you? What do they want you to do? Whatever it is… don’t do it. Please- I ask one thing of you, you’ll only regret it-”

He was shocked at her forwardness. “What? How-”

She shook her head, pushing his questions away, “Tell me this, Link. Have you heard the ancient voice calling to you?”

… **_what_**? She must have read the shock on his face, _because how did she know_?! “It’s from the sword I told you was yours- the Master Sword. It has a mauve handle, and a blue glowing blade. Find the Master Sword, Link. It’s calling you.”

Goddesses. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle seeing the hope in her eyes. The desperation that never seemed to leave them. 

He turned around and left, the calling screeching inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm intrigued... what do you think Link will do?


	10. A calamitous turn of events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death and blood. 
> 
> Fairly certain we can all guess what happens here.

The rain hurtled down, soaking through his long-ago drenched armour. Was it that long ago though?

His hands trembled, the demon carver in his grip weighed heavy. The blood that coated it tips, although now diluted, still coloured its surface. Fresh, crimson and bright. 

No… what weighed the most was the choice it signified.

His mind kept replaying the past twelve minutes, and he couldn’t afford it that, he needed to get out of this cursed village before anyone realised what he’d done.

Goddesses. 

_What had he done?_

The blood splattered across his face washed away with the rain. 

Pity it didn’t wash from his mind’s view. 

He flinched, when one raindrop landed on the scar under his eye, much like how the blood from Maz’s carotid artery had hit him. And the whole scene replayed yet again. 

A scream wrestled through the dulled, muffled atmosphere, carving straight through the haze that had descended onto his mind. 

“NO! _NO_! PLEASE!”

The guilt swirling in his chest trebled. He needed to get out of here. 

Goddesses forgive him. He had made a choice and now he would have to live with it. 

He had killed a person. 

He must have done it before, right? But the guilt. The fear that this was wrong. The fear that he’d chosen the wrong side. The fear that Maz hadn’t been the one to have killed his men, rather his comrade in protecting the Princess. 

He had to escape, he opened his pouch, grabbed the Deku nuts, and teleported out.

* * *

He ended up setting camp at a small remote campfire, secluded away under a rock with a flimsy tarp covering it. 

The tarp had several holes, and it was dripping onto the fire, but he felt he deserved it. 

He closed his eyes, and it started again. This time he didn’t fight it. He let it play. He bit his lip, wondering if he’d ever be able to forget. Funny, how hours ago he'd have given anything to remember and now, now all he wanted was to blast his memory to oblivion. 

He hadn’t slept the night before, trailing through the Hideout like a ghost. He had clutched his orange lantern like a man possessed, and he had searched high and low for that damned sword. 

He hadn’t found it. 

It had obviously been a lie, because the calling had also simmered down. He had thought that at least now he was actively giving into it, instead of resisting, it should have been easier to find. But no. 

He had crawled through the entire Hideout and ended up backtracking to where the Princess was. At which point, the calling predictably flared up, but he couldn’t find a _sword_. 

She was lying. 

The calling was nothing to do with a damn sword. He had obviously magicked the whole thing up in his post-recovery hallucinations. He had no idea what this pulling was. He could only imagine it was something to do with her seeing him during his half-alive-and-not-quite-dead stage. Perhaps his body recognised that she had been there… 

So… he’d made the choice then. He had no proof Anto had ever lied to him. None. Whilst she had. The decision was evident. Only one could be telling the truth, and seeing as how she had obviously lied, it was clear which side was correct. 

The sun rose, as he had come to the realisation that the Yiga were right. The Calling would remain unexplained, some connection he had to her. Perhaps from a past life, who knew. He had left with the Yiga, his demon carver strapped to his back, now firm with resolve. 

Still… It was not an easy thing to do, leaving his home for the first time, under such dire conditions, with such a morbid aim. Whilst he had finally fixed the conflict inside of him, he still felt somewhat uncomfortable with taking a life. It would be the first time he had done so. Or at least… remembered doing so. 

The entire journey had gone by too fast, teleportation really made quick work of travelling, and he barely had enough time to string together a coherent thought amongst the two halves of him that pushed and pulled, constantly grating against each other. Because despite it all, despite what had trespassed during the night, her sea-green eyes still haunted him. The pleading look in them still marred his vision. All of a sudden, they had reached the entrance, the Yiga had turned their gaze at him, and he knew then. His choice had been made when they had first set out. It was too late. Too late to backtrack now. And he was doing the right thing… he was, right?

He didn’t think on it further, gritted his teeth and got on with it. The entrance to Kakariko village was surprisingly unprotected. Only a few Sheikah stood guard, and he made quick work of avoiding them.

Impa’s house was in the centre of the village, surrounded by a waterfall. That was where Maz was, according to the latest scout report.

Ravio went in alone, the daybreak light still an hour away. 

Plenty of time to do what he had to do. 

He silently prowled around the house, his heart thundering in his chest. Impa was sleeping upstairs, Maz was located downstairs, passed out on a couch, surrounded by a pile of boxes with labels that varied from Armour to Books. It looked like he was moving in, half of them emptied and strewn across several pieces of furniture. On the coffee table was a ring box, with half-crushed flowers next to it. He tore his eyes away from the box and what it signified, because now was not the time to be sentimental. He refocussed; this set up was perfect. 

He grabbed his demon carver, adjusted his position, and he pulled his mask off. He wanted to make sure he had full visual acuity for what he was about to do.

Maz was fast asleep, and he wrapped a hand around his long braided white hair, and yanked him upright, the other hand pressed against his mouth, silencing his scream. 

“Don’t shout, or I’ll end you now.”

There was a floor-length mirror just in front of the couch, and he could see Maz’s startled face, that then morphed into one of horror, “ _Link_?”

That single word broke whatever resolve he had once accrued, all the careful stacked pieces of evidence he had systematically organised in his brain. He fumbled with the demon carver, all composure well and truly lost. Maz seemed to be in shock still, staring at his reflection, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

“What happened to you? Why are you-”

He was cut off, gurling fresh blood instead as Ravio ( _Link_?) finally managed to get his shaking hands to cooperate and push the damn weapon in. A spurt of blood flew upwards, landing on his face, just under his eye. His hand was shaking though, and he just missed the carotid. He moved to angle the blade better when Maz’s hand stopped him. 

“I- just promise me one thing-” He coughed, try to expel out the blood that continued to pool in his throat. “Promise you won’t hurt Impa. She’s with-" a strangled cry escaped his throat, "-with child.”

He ignored that statement, couldn’t bear to think of the implications. “For… my men.” He ploughed the carver in, watching as Maz spasmed in his grasp, his round crimson eyes clouding over with disbelief in them still. A last desperate gasp left him, before he finally stopped shuddering, and went still. The blood pooled around Ravio, seeping into his armour, staining his hands. He let go, pushed himself up, but then the lifeless body slipped out of his hold, contorting itself as a strange angle.

That’s when it hit. 

That he’d mercilessly killed someone.

A person, who was had just proposed.

A person who was going to become a father.

A child, who, if born, would now be father-less because of him. 

The metallic smell hit him, and he dry-heaved, stepping away from dead man. A man whose throat he had slit. Another step morphed into harried backtracking and then he finally turned away and started to run. He sprinted and teleported out, reaching the tree that overlooked the village. 

That’s when the rain started.

And that’s when he lost track of it all. 

He sighed, restoking the fire after it puffed out, yet again. The wood was too sodden to hold a flame, and he was in no position to fetch more. 

_Link_ … 

That was the second person outside the Yiga to call him that. Surely if he had known Ravio from the fight he would have called him that? The anxiety, the fear, suddenly hit him again. Goddesses. What if he had it all wrong?

He had had a choice then too. But he’d done it anyway. And now it was too late.

There was a small puddle, just by his right, clearly from another hole. 

He leaned across it, staring into the murky depths of his reflection.

Who was he? Truly?

Would he ever know? Still, would knowing make what he’d done okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys warning for a long author's note up ahead. 
> 
> First up- I would just like to ask for feedback (which is always appreciated) because this is the first time I've done something like this. Did the memory from Link's perspective make sense? Was it confusing without breaks? I didn't want to introduce those in the middle of him remembering because I wanted it to be almost one stream of consciousness.
> 
> Aaand secondly, Link made a choice. Whoops. There we have it OracleHylia I hope I fulfilled your brief! I know Link didn't morph into a "killing machine" per se but I thought one impactful death would trump many insignificant ones. ~~Impa is now bereaved and her child has no father I’m sorry~~. 
> 
> Two more chapters left guys! One from Zelda’s perspective and a last one where Link undergoes max psychic damage. 
> 
> Also if anyone is wondering about the Master Sword and why Link didn’t find it/why it only seems to really call him when Zelda is in view- here’s an explanation. I'm writing this here because I couldn't find a way to really explain this inside the story and also the last two chapters are very different to the rest of the fic in that they are fairly high-octane/fast-paced and deep explanations didn't really match with the vibe. 
> 
> Firstly, the Calling works at a baseline level- when we were in the Great Hyrule Forest wondering through the hazy mist in BOTW I’m sure all of us knew what was at the end, but we didn’t know how much further/how many twists of turns we had left- it was more of a question of a baseline calling rather than an increasing intensity as we progressed through so despite Link giving in and trying to find it, the sword didn’t really make life easier. 
> 
> Secondly, The Master Sword responds to when Zelda is in trouble because AOC haha. I won’t say more to avoid spoilers but like *that scene* is what I’m basing that off. 
> 
> Thirdly, the Sword is currently in the pit Link and Zelda were in. The Yiga had shoved the Foot Soldier whose head the Sword impaled in there until [redacted]. 
> 
> So basically even though the sword has a baseline calling to Link, poor boy wouldn’t have been able to access it seeing as he would need magnesis to lift the metal sheet off. 
> 
> All of that meant that he failed to find it and thus assumed Zelda was lying... leading to him essentially choosing the Yiga side of things.
> 
> Wow that was a long author's note sorry :')


	11. Is this the end?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda's POV.
> 
> TW: torture and threatened major character death.

Zelda watched his retreating form, anxiety, fear and a feeling of utter powerlessness, more so than what she felt at every Spring, at every Statue, after every prayer, run rampant through her.

She didn’t know what the Yiga had told him.

They had fabricated his whole identity… from this position he held in their Clan as a Captain, explaining away how he was in fact Hylian, and thus couldn’t perform the same magic they could, or access the technology in the same way. It confused her, because the only Yiga Clan members she knew of were ex-Sheikah...

She put that out of her mind, that wouldn't help with her situation right now. She refocussed- again, the Yiga had sabotaged the truth. Whilst Link was indeed a Captain, it was of the Knights in charge of her own protection… And they'd deviously exploited that so a facet of the truth remained, but he was now a Captain of dead men. Obviously, they couldn’t put living Yiga under his control, because that would raise too many questions, and too many potential flaws could arise that would make Link suspicious. 

No, she had to give it to the Yiga, they’d manufactured the story so that now, Link was the sole survivor. That way, he felt guilt over something he had never actually partaken in. They’d manipulated the truth, and manufactured well-placed lies into it, thus making it was so difficult to see through.

It was the perfect bait, and he had fallen for it, and frankly, she would too. She fisted her hands, frustrated that she couldn’t leave this damn cell, couldn’t take him back to the Castle, couldn’t show him the Soldier’s Garrison, his father, his actual roots and true identity. Instead, she was stuck throwing ideas at him that there was no guarantee he’d even follow through. 

She just prayed, that the doubt she’d instigated would be enough. That it would hold him off from doing what he thought was the right thing. 

She sighed. If there was one thing she knew about Link, it was his loyalty, and his sense of righteousness would outweigh any reservations he had. He was the kind of man who would lay down his life in an instant if it meant the protection of those he cared about. It was probably eating him inside, this guilt over not having done enough for his men. And she was scared, worried, that he would give in to do something heinous in their name.

She could only hope that he’d find the sword, and that he really did hear the voice she’d once taunted him about. She had no idea if he even heard it to begin with, seeing as he didn’t exactly answer her then, only responding with his stereotypical blank stare, but it was the one thing she had read about the Master Sword- that it called out to the Hero. She could only hope that it was doing that to Link. If it was, then they still stood a chance. If he found it, then that would hopefully trigger something in him, some vague recollection of who he once was…

* * *

Zelda was hunched in a corner, watching the proceedings with weary eyes.

The Yiga were preparing for… _something_. 

There was a flurry of activity, huge stands had been set up, each with a concentric ring of seats that slowly grew bigger the higher up they went, all organised around the sinkhole. 

They had brought in several large metallic slabs, carried in by their magnesis, and had set up a platform of sorts across the hole. But then the stands were completed, and as such blocked her view, and she wasn’t sure what was going on in the centre of it all. 

Zelda had slowly slunk away, deeper inside the cell, fearful over what was happening. What were they preparing for? It seemed like an event of sorts, a… festival perhaps? Was she supposed to see this? 

Half of her attention, as it seemed to be these days, was focussed on Link. 

He hadn’t come today. She hadn’t spotted him at all, actually. It was a little disconcerting, normally he would have come by now…

And that didn’t settle her nerves, the fear churned in her stomach, wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay, if he’d given in, or if he’d remained indecisive. The unknown was prickling at her, frankly she just wanted the wait to be over. For him to just tell her what he’d done. 

Anything was better than watching the Yiga-

Oh.

A selection of them approached her cell, and she uselessly pushed further back into the stone wall, screaming when they teleported in, grabbed her and teleported out. 

She twisted and turned futilely, desperately looking around, for her Hero, her Knight, her Link to appear.

Wasn’t it funny, she had always run away from him, and now, she wanted nothing more than for him to show up.

They pressed closer to her, and she wrestled harder still against their hold, bending down to bite one of them, and he swore. That earned her a harsh slap, and another tugged her hair back sharply, so fast that her neck cracked, and she shrieked. The clamps were on within seconds and her gaze finally fell to what lay in the centre of the glistening metallic surface. 

She froze, in shock and fell slack against her bonds, all resistance well and truly abandoned. 

Years of diplomatic training, of maintaining a carved, polished, marble face in the light of her father’s repeated insults, the court’s open accusations and society’s hushed mutterings about how cursed she was, how selfish she was, how unworthy she was, had essentially trained her to be calm and composed in almost all situations. Hell, she hadn’t even cried at her own mother’s funeral. 

And she wouldn’t do so now, even if she was staring at what was likely going to be her own death. 

Zelda was a scientist, a realistic, a pragmatic person by nature. She knew the way things were progressing (or rather lack of) with her powers meant that it was likely she would die, at some point, in the near future, once the Calamity arose. Simply because she’d have to charge headfirst into a battle, with no hope of success. 

That being said…

She couldn't stop the smile that fought its way through her face, as a dying ray of the sun shimmered through the deceptively calm blue blade.

Sure, dying was a probable outcome, but she hadn’t ever planned for dying _before_ the Calamity anyway. Of course, the threat of the Yiga was a pertinent one, but she’d always been protected against them… Until she was foolish enough to escape those responsible for her protection that is.

And now… now she would pay the price. 

She really was condemned by the Goddesses. Both for her locked powers, and her lack of wisdom.

A heavy exhale morphed into a series of gasps as she tried to hold her composure together, her eyes resting on that mauve handle she'd cursed countless times. 

A sword that Hylia, the Goddess who mocked her every time for being a failed descendent, Herself made, for her darling Hero who Zelda had insulted, scorned and ruined the life of. 

Then again... perhaps she and her ancestor weren't so different. Hylia was the one who had put them both into this doomed, endless cycle of reincarnation. Zelda had only hurt Link in this lifetime. But all of the others, all of that blame was at Hylia's sacred feet. 

Almost subconsciously, the facts slotted into place in the frenzied chaos of Zelda's mind. Link clearly hadn't found the sword, that meant he'd done whatever it was the Yiga had ordered him to do. Subsequently, he had now turned against her, and the rest of Hyrule. 

She'd failed. At a task which relied on logical reasoning, one of the things she was supposedly good at. No, she'd lost the battle of wits with the Yiga. And now Link would pay the heaviest price.

As they pushed her down onto her knees, and rammed her back and thighs against the wooden post, she came to another realisation.

There was only one person who could wield The Sword That Seals The Darkness. 

Thus... her executioner was already decided. 

She couldn’t hold back the peals of laughter that broken through, and she started to laugh in earnest, as the Yiga strapped her down with magnesis, her head resting in a small depression in the wood.

Yes, she was cursed, but oh, the _irony_. Hylia's Sword, created for Her Hero, would now be wielded and used to kill Her own descendent. 

Belatedly she realised she would make history, as the first Princess who wouldn’t be waiting for the Hero to save her, and bring about her country’s salvation. Oh no, she’d be waiting for her own and Hyrule’s destruction and demise. Demise indeed. 

And whose fault was it? 

_Hers_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops Chapter and runs*


	12. The Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link undergoes max 100% on psychic damage.
> 
> TW: Mentions of death, blood.

He slipped back into the Hideout, the next day, late afternoon. Today was the anniversary. Tonight, Princess Zelda would be killed.

Anto had met him, joking, bubbly, like he was from before. But he couldn’t handle it. Not today. Not after what he’d done. He went into the showers and stayed there for an immeasurable amount of time. No amount of water would cleanse the guilt from him though. 

**Link** …

Was he truly Link? Was he the Hero? Was that sword, the Master Sword, his? Why couldn’t he find it? Was Zelda right? Was Anto wrong? 

He bit his cheek, harshly, pulling at his hair.

 _Goddesses he just didn’t know_. 

Was it too late to even go back? Was it too late to deceive himself to think he had a choice still? 

Even if he was the Hero, would she even look at him again in light of what he’d done?

“Ravio? Dude you’ve been in there a while?”

He very nearly banged his head against the stone wall. “I’m coming.” He put on his armour, cleaned and ready (just how long had he been in there?). Anto was waiting for him.

“Master Kohga… he has something to tell you. I’ll walk with you?”

He nodded and stepped in line with Anto. They made their way to the laboratory, the calling a simmering hum, as soon as he reached the ground floor. 

“AH RAVIO! Listen, congrats on eliminating that pest! Now, now, I’ve got to go - preparations for tonight and all, but basically, you’re the one that will be executing the Princess. I think it’s the perfect reward after all your work, imagine, your name forever in Yiga legacy!”

He nearly fainted. Goddesses. Anto seemed to sense his shock, “I’m sure he's honoured, Your Excellency, he is just... a little tired after travelling.”

“Sureeeee anyway, I just thought it would be good for him. Close that loop, because if it wasn’t for her, his squad would still be alive. She’s the last, indirect, cause of this whole mess. Not to mention, by doing so he will be the one to bring about our Great Calamity! What other way to mark, in blood, his _allegiance_!” 

He nodded, absentmindedly almost- one thought echoing out all others.

_Too late too late too late_

* * *

Night came by faster than expected, and soon enough, it was 11:45 pm, near the time of execution. It had been scheduled for midnight, when the darkness was at its strongest. 

He wasn’t feeling good. All of his fears, his fractured pieces of self, all of them were rebelling against him. This wasn’t okay. Maz… he could understand. Hell, it had been for men who had fallen as a direct consequence of his actions. But the Princess… 

As expected, when he stepped out, the Calling flared, and seeing her, her legs bound to a wooden stake, arms tight in magnesis chains, sent a stab of guilt and pain through his chest. 

But what was beside her shocked him the most.

A flawless blade… with a mauve handle. 

It pulsed blue, out of a Yiga’s head. 

Oh.

 _Oh_ …

He could just about hear the shouting of the Yiga, the cheers as they erupted around him. He paid them no mind, the calling overpowering everything else, until it was all he could focus on, the thrumming a near incessant beat in his eardrums, his heart thundering in time with it. 

He walked up to it, and gripped the handle, not entirely sure he was in control of his movements, and all of a sudden-

He was on a loftwing, how he knew that he didn’t know, Zelda was in front of him. It wasn’t him, wasn’t her, but it was still.  
He was in the Temple of Time, in a courtyard, with a Princess that was his but wasn’t.  
He was a wolf, and she was in a cloak, but it wasn’t them.  
He was in the sea, she was a pirate, but-  
In the Tower of Spirits, she was in Phantom armour, then on a mountain, “You’ll help her Link?” 

Yes… Yes, he would, he vowed as he clasped her hand gently, her fingers tightening around his, a promise, for all time. 

_Always_

Link gasped, realised he had fallen to one knee, his left hand gripping the sword’s handle to hold himself up. He felt like he was drowning, heaving for air, after resurfacing briefly from the sea of memories. He glanced, towards the jeering crowd, and came across Anto’s face, his mask off… his gaze darted between Link and the Sword, a frown forming on his face. 

He looked away, and she was staring at him, those sea-green eyes that had troubled him from his first waking moment. 

Now he knew why. 

Now he understood. 

It was always him. Always her. Always together. 

Now… he knew who she was. 

And what she meant to him. What she had _always_ meant to him. 

Link didn’t any more time for his mind to catch up, he was sucked back, away from her, and he missed whatever it was she said as he plunged back down into the sea.

A whole flurry of images followed, the sword almost vicious in forcing the memories onto him. It showed snapshots of his journey as a Knight, his tumbling upon the sword in the Great Hyrule Forest, his presentation to the King, becoming _her_ Knight, his camaraderie with the Sheikah, which exponentially increased the guilt swirling in his gut, his friendship with the Zora, not so much with the Rito, his Welcoming Ceremony, her frustration with him, her escapades, that trip to the desert, her running away, him defending her but failing, the table, with her tied across it, that was where he shut his eyes against the Sickle, giving her his shirt, his tunic, _to protect her honour_ , the fight with Kohga, his near death, her battle with the needle to save his life-

He was screaming, he realised. 

Shouting, as tears stormed down his face.

Both hands were now clutching the handle, his head resting on the tip, on his knees, a slave to the sword. 

A slave to his destiny.

A slave to the guilt. 

She was holding him, wiping his tears, “Whatever you’ve done, it wasn’t _you_ Link. It's not your fault.”

But it was, it was, how could he have been so-

A memory began to play, outside Gerudo Town, which he'd finally reached a day behind Zelda. 

_He leapt up from his Hylian Shield after shield-surfing down the sands. Vivid crimson eyes bore into his own, relief evident in them, "Link! You made it! Hylia above I thought you wouldn't have realised-"_

_He shook his head, nodding towards the entrance. "Yes, yes, she went in a while back. Listen, I had to deal with a gang of Yiga, they seemed to know she was coming- so be wary._

_He nodded, pulled his sword from its sheath and fisted the tip into the sand. He couldn't change into his... disguise just yet. He had to wait for Maz to leave. There was no way he was going to leave the Princess alone for a second after hearing **that**._

_"Are you sure you'll be okay? I can always delay the proposal you know, I don't want to leave-"_

_At that Link vehemently shook his head, using his right hand to push Maz away from Gerudo Town and towards the Canyon Pass._

_"Hey hey! I get the message!" Maz stumbled around for a bit, before pulling on his ponytail and shuffling back towards Link. "Listen, Link, have you got any last minute advice? I'm absolutely terrified. This is Impa after all. The same Impa who literally had a hissy fit at me once she realised I had twelve copies and she only had ten. And then she hated me for like weeks until we were forced to cooperate on the Princess's safety during her trips and then things got better but LINK WHAT IF SHE SAYS NO?"_

_Link bit down a smile. He raised his shoulders a little._

_"You're right you know, why would she say no. I mean she's literally carrying my child why would she refuse to tie her name to mine-" Link pressed a hand to Maz's shoulder, and squeezed a little, before taking an extra deep breath._

_"You're right yes, I need to calm down aha, and breathe, Goddesses I'm actually going to do it. I'm going to do it Link! Wish me luck!"_

_Smiling, vibrant, joyful eyes met his own, before Maz pulled him into a hug, startling him a little. "Thanks for listening Link. You’re a great buddy, ignore those stupid Knights who mock you over your silence. They just never took the time to understand you is all.”_

_Link felt his heart warm, as he pressed an arm into Maz’s back, and then let him go, giving Maz a thumbs up as he stepped back._

_And with a final wink Maz left, “I'll leave you to it then. Who knows, you might have some luck with Her Highness this time round. Wouldn't count on it but, well, one can hope."_

The sword forced its way back into his head, pulling Link away from the fragments that surged through him. Maz... His friend, his comrade, his companion in protecting the Princess. He'd _murdered_ him. In cold blood. The guilt heaved in his stomach, a huge stone pressing on his chest. It hurt to breathe, those final moments, that final gasp, the disbelief in those eyes looped and looped around in his mind's view. 

The sword apparently ran out of patience, and pulsed blue again, a message that he felt more than saw: _sometimes things don't get better, they only get worse_.

And then it pressed two dual images, running side by side against each other and his mind broke in two watching it. 

The one on the left was of the First of Them, his red cape enveloped around his dying body, a large, growing crimson pool spread from his gut, his grip on the sword weakening as Demise lay dead, and His Goddess, enshrined in light clasped him to her chest. 

The second was of much the same, this time Ganondorf was laughing, laughing in the ring of fire. He'd been caught unaware, and now a gushing open wound marred his back, and she was crying, pushing his hair behind his ears, clutching him close, whispering prayers over his rapidly weakening form.

In the first, his last thought was that Her light was shrinking, fading, but he didn't have time to think of the consequences, She pressed her forehead to his, and all he could think was that this wasn't the way a Goddess should hold her believer. But... it wasn't a bad way to die, blessed was he to have been given this. He had fulfilled his duty, even if it had cost him his life. 

The second... he ended up giving in, knowing his final moments were upon him, and he used his last remaining strength to lean closer to her, and press his dying, ashen, blood stained lips onto hers. She kissed him passionately, hauling him closer even as he felt himself slip away. The kiss was an apology, for not being enough, for not saving her, for not being there for her, for failing. 

Link slumped forward onto Zelda, broken and weak, the handle of the sword loose in his grasp, as it turned to a weight heavier than lead. But she was there, comforting him when she should have used the sacred blade to kill him.

Zelda was there, always there, trapped, but she was still holding his cursed, guilt-ridden, treasonous head in her hands as best as she could, clamped as she was. Despite everything, despite knowing he could have saved her countless times from this hellhole, despite how he completely and utterly _failed_ in protecting her, despite how he'd assassinated their friend, despite his betrayal in the face of their shared destiny, and even worse, in being her soulmate. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it is your fault. Whatever it is you've done, even if you’ve murdered, stabbed, killed, burnt, ruined, whatever it is, _it wasn’t your fault Link._ ”

He couldn't accept that. The sword didn't either, _not all Heroes have happy endings_. 

He felt himself become overwhelmed with guilt, despair, sheer horror, the full consequences of what he had done, what his betrayal meant, and he looked up, and saw her pleading eyes yet again. 

His lips trembled, and it came out as a whimper more than anything, a cry for help that he knew he didn't deserve, 

“ _Zelda... what have I done_?” 

She shook her head, "Whatever it is, Link, you must remember that you never would have done it, if you knew who you were." He was still in the throes of despair, but she gripped his chin, and lifted his face so that his haunted gaze met her own, 

"Link. I have but one thing left to say to you. Courage... need not be remembered," she paused, tracing her thumb over the wound under his eye, "for it is never forgotten."

He stilled, closing his eyes, trying to fork through the murky fog of grief that had descended on him. It would never be like before. But that wasn't what she was saying. Her words rang clear through the maelstrom of emotions that seconds ago threatened to tumble him, from the sheer weight of the sword’s memories, from who he was and what he’d done. She was saying he had the strength, the _courage_ to try again. Because that’s what Heroes do... and what he’d always done. He would permanently carry this burden with him, it would forever be imprinted on his mind, his soul, and the weight strapped to his back. And yet- 

The sword grew lighter in his grasp.

He blinked, and she smiled, and he realised perhaps not all was lost. He could still do something. He could still try to protect her, and fulfil vows all his predecessors made. He could still be her Hero... Even if he felt he didn't deserve it. Even if he wanted to claw his eyes out from the guilt over what he'd done, over how he'd failed her, his vows, _Maz_.

Still. Courage. Have courage. Embody courage.

He was ready to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> Before you all kill me for giving this an open ending- I'd like to justify why I thought this was the best way to end this.
> 
> Firstly, the entire premise of this story was one of angst, one of uncertainty and pain. And I think it's probably best to leave the ending ambiguous too, in line with the rest of this fic. 
> 
> Secondly, we have come full circle in a way- at the start Link was fighting for his life, and now, he’s fighting for who he is truly is- who he was meant to be and against what he’s done. 
> 
> Also, this is the first time in this entire story that Link realises he is indeed _Link_ and this could probably go several ways, does Link fight his inner demons, thus trying to actively resist having a mental breakdown, which would be plausible considering everything he's gone through and done. Or does he begin to fight the Yiga as he goes into a well-justified spiteful rage and shoot Master Sword Beams at Anto (killing him) and then lashing out at the Yiga overall for what they've done. 
> 
> And really, I quite like the idea of both, and so I’ll leave it up to you guys to decide which one you prefer! 
> 
> Overall though, I can see them escaping- Link can teleport, but as for telling Zelda and then Impa what he’s done and handling that conversation... oof.
> 
> I currently have no plans to continue this, or write an epilogue because I feel the story has reached a strong conclusion with a pinnacle that would be difficult to match... Maybe one day I’ll write one titled Aftermath and try to deal with some of it like the conversation with Impa but I’ve got too much going on right now guys haha with uni and assignments and exams. *cries in dissertations*
> 
> In terms of what I'm definitely doing, next up will be a relatively fluffy continuation of Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better (pre-calamity), and hopefully I'll have this ready by summer- because of _life_ I'll be taking a break, and I'll probably be back by June... hopefully. 
> 
> That being said _thank you_ guys for all your kudos and especially the comments! Half the fun is replying to you and seeing your reactions aha. I hope you enjoyed this dark fic, as always any feedback is appreciated! I'll leave the rest of it to you dear readers to fill in, to decide what you think Link and Zelda would do next, and let me know in the comments what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh yeah, so I know I promised you guys fluff next, but um, have this angsty fic first?


End file.
